■ JSU 1884. 



Price, 1 5 Centa 



lila-13L 




Copyright, 1884, by Funk & Wagnalls. 
KaUrtd ia Ntw York Po*t-Ofiic« m MCond-clM* m»il msttor. 



Subscription price 
per year, fS. 



Funk & Wagnalls' Standard Library, 



No. 80. lilFE OF CROHTlTELIi. 

By Paxton Hood 25c. 

•' The book is one of deep interest. The 
giyle is good, the analysis searchittg y 

No. 81. SCIENCE IN SHORT 
CHAPTERS. By W. M. Will- 
iams 25c. 

No. 83. AMERICAN HUmOR- 

ISTS. ByH. R. Haweis 15c. 

"J. book of j)lea8ant reading, with 
enough sparkle in it to cure tfie Uiiesy 

No. 83. l,IVES OF ILIiUSTRI- 
0(JS SHOEilIAKERS. By W. 

E. Winks 25c. 

No. 84. FliOTSAin AND JET- 
SAM. By T. G. Bowles. 25c. 
" This is a romance of the sea, and i3 

0ne of the most readable and enjoyable 

books of the season.'" 

No. 85. HIGHWAYS OF r.IT- 

ERATIJRE. By David Pbyde. 15c. 

" The best answer we have seen to the 
common and most puzzling question, 
* What shall I read f' 

No. 86. COIilN CLOUT'S CAL- 
ENDAR ; or, A Record of a Sum- 
mer. By Grant Allen 25c. 

"A book which lovers of natural history 
will read with delight. The author is 
such a worshiper of nature that he gains 
«ur sympathy at once."" (^V. Y. Be raid.) 

No. 87. ESSAYS OF GEORGE 

ELIOT. Collected by Nathan 

Sheppard 25c. 

Thejirst appearance in book form. 

No. 88. CHARLOTTE BRONTE. 

By L. C. HoLLOWAT 15c. 

" There tvas but orw Charlotte Bronte, 
MS there was but one Shakespeare.'''' 

No. 89. SAM HOB ART. By Justin 

D. TuLTON 25c. 

".4 graphic narrative and a strong pic- 

tirre of a life full of herois?}i and changes. 

Thrilling as a romance.'''' {N". Y. World.) 

No. 90. SUCCESSFUL MEN OF 
TO-D.\Y.— WUat They Say of 

Success. By W. F. Crafts 25c. 

' ' A capital book to place in the hands of 
young men commencing a business or pro- 
fessional career.'' {Zion's Herald, Boston.) 



No. 91. NATURE STUDIES. By 

Richard A. Pboctor 25c 

No. 92. INDIA ; W^HAT CAN IT 

TEACH US ? ByMAsMuLLER.25c. 

^'We have no 7nore suggestive writer 
than Max Mu tier. ' ' ( Toronto Prest/yteri an.) 

No. 93. A l^INTER IN INDIA. 

By W. E. Baxter, M.P 15c. 

" The narrative is vei^ entertaining 
and instructive.'''' 

No. 94. SCOTTISH CHARAC- 
TERISTICS. Paxton Hood. 25c. 
^^ Headable, instructive and amusing.'" 

No. 95. HISTORICAL AND 
OTHER SKETCHES. By 

James Anthony Froude 25c. 

No. 96. JEWISH ARTISAN 
LIFE IN THE TIME OF 

JESUS, By Delitzsch 15c. 

"■'A book full of interest to all Christiant 
and to the student of history.'''' 

No. 97. SCIENTIFIC SOPH- 
ISMS. By Samuel Wainwright. 25c. 

Ko. 9S. ILLUSTRATIONS AND 
MEDITATIONS. By C. H. 

Spurqeon 25c. 

No. 99. FRENCH CELEBRI- 
TIES. By Daudet 15c. 

No. 100. BY-WAYS OF LIT- 
ERATURE. By D. H. Wheeler, 
LL.D., Pres. Allegheny College 25c. 

No. 101. LIFE OF MARTIN 
LUTHtlR, based upon Kost- 
lin^s Life of Lutlier. Trans- 
lated and edited by Rev. George F. 
Behringeb 25c. 

No. 102. FRENCH CELEBRI- 
TIES. By Claretie and others. 15c. 

No. 103. OUR CHRISTMAS If 

A PALACE. By Edward Ever- 
ett Hale 25c. 

No. 104. W^ITH THE POETS. 

By Canon Faruar '25c. 

No. 105. LIFE OF ZWINGLI. 

By Prof. Grob 25c. 



X»IlTOES IIV C1L.OTH:. 
1. The Standard Cloth Edition. Price $1.00 for 25c. books; 75c. for 
16c. books. Complete t^et of "26 book:*, in line cloth binding, ^16;00. 

2» The Cheap Cloth Edition. Price. 50c. Enttre 26 books, $10.00. 
V ■ Any subscriber for the Paper-bound Edition ($5.00 for the entire 26 books) can ex- 
■ihange for the Cloth-bound by returning the books and paying the difference. 

*#* Any of the above books sold by booksellers and newsdealers, or sent post paid 
•n receipt of price, 
\ ^g~ Circulars of the Standard Libbart sent free to any addreea. 



184 



EDflNAENOLD as POETIZER M as PAGANIZES 



CONTAINING 



An Examination of the *^ Light of Asia" for its 
Literature and for its Buddhism. 

By WILLIAM CLEA.VER WILKINSON. 



This is much more than a mere critique : it is a valuable and lucid exposition 
of the main facts in the life of Buddha, and the claims which his religion can 
justly make upon mankind. Mr. Wilkinson believes that Mr. Arnold's poem has 
had a weakening efEect on the faith and conscience of America, and in a most tren- 
chant yet courtly fashion he lays hare the discrepancies between the facts and the 
lictions in reference to Buddhism. His dealing with the literary qualities of '"The 
Light of Asia " startles one at the very outset with the boldness and calmness of 
his denunciation. He recognizes the strength of the popular sentiment, and lit- 
erary sentiment as well, with which he has to contend ; but he is apparently too 
sure of his footing to be fluttered thereby. Whether one agrees or not with his 
conclusions, one cannot help reading with admiration ; for the conscience of the 
critic is felt on every pa^e, and the skill of the dialectician revealed in every sen- 
tence. The spirit displayed is at once generous and severe, the points made are 
fciliarp and stinging, and the good-natured raillery at Mr. Arnold and at some of 
his eulogizers becomes at times very amusing. It is a work of permanent value 
for the student of literature and the student of comparative religion. The new 
edition of Mr. Arnold's poem makes the critique especially timely. 



JOHX H^rCLIFFE. A popular 
biography of this great reformer, as a 
student, scholar, statesman, teacher 
and reformer. It is written in a racy 
and entertaining, yet scholarly style, 
and is undoubtedly the best popvlar 
life presenting Wycliffe's biography. 
Paper, 25 cents ; cloth, $1.00. 

Rev. Wm. M. Taylor, D.D., New York, 
says : " The author of this book has 
done a great deal of honest work. He 
has made the fulles^t, fairest, most accu- 
rate and most connected memoir of the 
great forerunner of the Reformers to be 
found anywhere within the compass of 
60 brief a volume. Nothing essential is 
omitted, and scarcely anything extra- 
neous is permitted to make its appear- 
ance. The author has used his authori- 
ties with an independent judgment, and 
has never allowed himself to be seduced 
into the merely pictorial when facts were 
in request. lie has done right, also, in 
appending an index, thereby avoiding 
the great mistake of the Lechler volumes. 
. . . As a whole, the work has been done 
faithfully and well ; and to those who 
can see beneath the surface, it indicates 
thorough investigation and honest im- 
partiality." 

Prof. 0(0. P. Fisher, D.D , of Yale 
College, says : " The author's work is 



evidently founded on the best sources of 
information, and it is written m a very 
clear and interesting style. Its readeis 
will obtain from its pages a just and suf- 
ficient view of the great forerunner of 
Protestantism," 

CHRISTMAS IN NARR7I • 
CAN SETT. By Edward Evek- 
KTT Hale, Author of " The Fortunes 
of Rachel," " Our Christmas in a Pal- 
ace," etc. Price, paper, 25 cents; 
cloth, $1.00. 

Such a hearty reception was given by 
press and public to " Our Christmas in 
a Palace " one year ago, that this new 
work of Mr. Hale's, prepared after a 
somewhat similar plan, is sure to be 
hailed with delight. Over a dozen of 
most engaging stories are woven to- 
gether in this volume, and woven eo 
skillfully that the unity of the narrative 
is preserved from first fo last. There 
are wheels within wheels, but all mov- 
ing in perfect harmony and without 
friction. Some of the stories are as ex- 
cellent specimens of the story-telling 
genius as the public has been favored 
with many a day. There can be little 
donbt in any reader's mind that if a man 
was ever bom to tell tales, Mr. Hale 
certauily was. 



THE lilGHT OF ASIA ; Or, the Great Renunciation. Being the Life 
and Teaching of Gautima, Prince of India and Foimder of Buddhism, as told in 
verse by an Indian Buddhist. By Edwin Arnold. 4to, maniUa cover, 15 cents. 



185 

1885 



STANDARD LIBR/RY. 



PROSPECTUS FOR THE NEXT YEAR. 



During 18S5 the Standard Library tvill he 
issued hi-nionthly. 



npHE character of the books will be up to the standard 
observed during 1883 and 1884. It is impossible to 
announce the books in advance, as a special feature will 
consist in publishing the very latest best books that can be 
obtained up to the date of issue. 

The size, style of type, binding and quality of paper 
will be the same as during the last two years. The price 
for single numbers will also be the same. 

The special price to advance subscribers for the year 
will be only 11.00. Subscriptions received at this price 
until Feb. 1, 1885. Do not fail to renew at once and get 
your friends and neighbors to subscribe, as the small sum 
required will give an opportunity to many who heretofore 
have felt unable to subscribe. 



FUNK & WAGNALLS, 10 & 12 Dey St., New York. 



Edv/in Arnold 



AS 



POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER 



CONTAININa 



AIV EXAMINATION OF THE ''LIGHT OF ASIA 
FOR ITS LITERATURE AND FOR 
ITS BUDDHISM 



WILLIAM CLEAVEK WILKINSON 
FUNK & WAGNALLS 

NEW YORK : 1884. LONDON : 

10 AND 12 Det Street. 44 Flkkt Street, 

All Rights Reserved. 



t^^K 



sti* 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 18S4, by 

FUNK & WAGNALLS, 

lu the Olllce of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. 



i;^. K^ttU^^y 



/ 




PUBLISHERS' NOTE. 
//-? 

It is proper to say that the present volume, while essentially in 
original design, and formally still in execution, a critique, literary 
and doctrinal, on Mr. Arnold's very popular poem, offers, as now 
presented to the public, a criticism of Buddhism itself, in the ethical 
part of that great religion so-called. It contains material nowhere 
else to be found in a form accessible to the general reader, for a 
just independent judgment of the real ethical merits of a pagan 
creed that has been much vaunted of late among us. It is thus 
a substantial contribution, which will be appreciated especially 
by Christian teachers, to the current discussion of Comparative 
Religion. 



PREFACE. 



It certainly would seem hardly worth while to write a 
book, even a little book like the present, solely for the 
purpose of criticising such a production as Mr. Edwin 
Arnold's '^ Light of Asia." But that production has 
accomplished, is still perhaps in course of accomplishing, 
a mission in America of influence upon the public mind 
important quite out of proportion to any significance 
attaching to the poem by virtue of its own intrinsic 
character. 

The publication of Mr. Arnold's work happened to 
coincide in time with a singular development, both in 
America and in Europe, of popular curiosity and interest 
concerning ethnic religions, especially concerning Bud- 
dhism. The ^^ Light of Asia" w^as well adapted to hit 
this transient whim of Occidental taste. So I account, 
in part, for the instantaneous American popularity of 
the poem. At any rate, Mr. Arnold has, no doubt, 
whether by merit or by fortune, been, beyond any other 
writer, the means of widening the American audience 
prepared to entertain with favor the pretensions of 
Buddha and his teachings. 

The effect is very observable. There has entered the 
general mind an unconfessed, a half unconscious, but a 
most shrewdly penetrative, misgiving that perhaps, after 
all, Christianity has not of right quite the exclusive claim 
that it was previously supposed to possess, upon the 



VI riiEFACE. 

atteiitioii and reverence of mankind. A letting np in 
the sense of oblii^'ution, on the part of Christians, to 
cliristianize the worki, has foHowed. Nay. tlie individ- 
nal Christian conscience itself has, if I mistake not, been 
disposed to wear more lightly its own yoke of exclnsive 
loyalty to Jesns. 

In view of this state of the case, I have thonght that it 
might not be amiss, if 1 shoidd take occasion, by Mr. 
Arnold's book, to let in, from original sources, a little 
real light npon his subject, for the satisfaction of those 
readers of his who Avould like to know what is the 
actual truth underlying his representations of Buddha 
and of Buddhism. In achieving my purpose, I wns 
naturally led to consider as well the literar}^, as the 
didactic, value of the ''Light of Asia." Hence the 
anomaly of what, upon the face of it, is a literary cri- 
tique, appearing in the form of a book. My critique, 
w^hile superticially of Mr. Arnold, becomes fundamentally 
of Mr. Arnold's subject not less. I will not disguise it, 
my true paramount motive throughout has been still 
more religious and Christian than literary. 

As already intimated, one marked feature of the fol- 
lowing discussion of Buddhism will be found to lie in 
the fa(*t that it presents the system itself, in specimen, 
and not merely a single unfriendly critic's view of the 
system. Buddhism is given its chance to stand or to 
fall, with the reader, by its own inherent merits or 
demerits, and not by the praise or the blame of a jier- 
haps prejudiced interpreter. The writer comments in- 
deed, but the text on which he connnents is Buddhist 
literature itself placed visibly under the eye of the 
reader. The reader can thus condemn either the thing 
criticised, or the person criticising, in accordance with 
what seems to be the demand of justice in the case. 



PREFACE. VU 



The present writer judges Jiuddliism by the words wliich 
it speaks. It is but right that lie too should himself in 
turn be judged, as inevitably he will, out of his own 
mouth. 



FIRST P^RT 



I. 



To admire is deliglitfnl. To admire wisely is well. 
But to admire unwisely is not well, however delightful. 
Those who admire Mr. Edwin Arnold's poetry, admire 
"unwisely. This I purpose in the present essay to show. 
To do so will not be to me an agreeable, but it will, I 
may venture to trust, be by some readers accepted as a 
useful service. 

Most peoj)le of culture read, as indeed it is right that 
they should, to enjoy, rather than to criticise. They 
would naturally prefer to have that which they enjoy 
something intrinsically worthy to yield them enjoyment. 
Given, however, a book that is praised by authorities 
supposably both competent and candid, theirs, then, not 
to reason why, but theirs simply to read and relish. In 
this amiable class of readers, happily so large, there are 
numbered many minds capable of intellectual neutrality 
enough to welcome with good nature a study submitted 
to them of an author that they have over-hastily admired, 
which shall seek to show them that they have bestowed 
their admiration amiss. It is, in great part, to such 
people of culture as these, genial and open-hearted, but 
also judicious and open-minded, that I address myself in 
the critique of Mr. Arnold herewith placed before the 
iniblic. These readers 1 treat with all respect ; a senti- 
ment on my part toward them necessarily quite sincere, 
for among them I count dear personal friends of my 
own, men and women not indeed much given to criticis- 



12 EDWIN ARlSrOLD, 

mg closely for themselves, but abnndantlj capable of 
appreciating and enjojmg the closest criticism applied 
by others ; these readers, I say, 1 here treat courteously 
— with that best conrtesy, the trnth which is their dne — 
at the same time that I treat Mr. Arnold liimself — well, 
treat him, in strict conscience and with strong self-re- 
straint, exactly as I think he, in his literary capacity, 
deserves. 

My own first acquaintance with Mr. Edwin Arnold's 
poetry was made through a long and laudatory review 
of " The Light of Asia " in the JVew York Daily 
Tribune, This review contained copious extracts from 
the poem. It was beautifully read aloud to me, in a voice, 
the exquisitely modulated tones of which might com- 
mend almost any literature, to the ear at least, if not to 
the judgment and the taste. Prepossessed through the 
praises of the critic, as additionally persuaded thus by 
the voice of the reader, I easily formed a somewhat 
favorable impression of the poem. With equal ease, 
however, 1 soon dismissed it from thought, as being 
evidently the work of a mind without strongly individual 
character of its own, a mind capable at best only of re- 
flecting light received from sources outside of itself. 
Meantime the '' Light of Asia" was winning its audi- 
ence among American readers. 

One day, some months subsequently, a cherished friend 
of mine, a man of liberal culture, came to me with the 
volume, prompted in so coming by the generous thought 
of bringing me to share with himself the pleasure he 
experienced in its perusal. Naturally I was well inclined 
to enjoy the production appreciated in so genial a fellow- 
ship. ^'Is there a preface?" I asked. ^' There is." 
''Well, let us begin with that." My friend read the 
iirst sentence or two, 1 resting diffusely at ease meantime 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 13 

to take my full comfort of the reading. Witli all loyal 
good feeling, in that perfect frankness of expression 
which the long relation of intimacy between us per- 
mitted, I raised to my friend now and then a question of 
doubt as to the quality of the writing. More and more, 
as the reading proceeded, 1 felt discomposed, refraining, 
however, as in courtesy bound, from further antipatlietic 
expression. At length my friend, having doubtless been 
conscious all the time of skeptical effect, not intended, 
in my silence, spoke out : ^' There now, that, you will 
admit, is a fine sentence." To say truth, 1 had lost 
myself for a moment in alien meditation. '^ Let us 
have it again," 1 said. The first clause was repeated, 
when, ^' Pardon, just what does that mean ?" 1 inter- 
rupted ; ^' I do not seem to get the sense of the words." 
My friend had a very bright wit, but he was charmingly 
frank, and, characteristically, after pausing a moment to 
ponder the point, he acknowledged outright that he did 
not understand it. '' Go on," I said. Clause by clause, 
we challenged together that sentence of Mr. Arnold's 
for its meaning. We finally determined the literary 
quality of the whole preface to be — such as it will here- 
after be represented. 

His preface convinced me that I should not be pleased 
with Mr. Arnold's poetry. 

This may seem unreasonable. 1 was not forced to that 
conclusion of mine because the preface was ill written ; 
but because it was ill written in a certain way, a way to 
prove, as I thought, the writer to be not fundamentally 
sincere and genuine in his literary character. 

Still, I went forward to read the '^ Light of Asia" in 
company with my genial and cultivated friend. Point 
by point he made fight — as in good loyalty he felt com- 
mitted to do — to the limit of the possibility that existed. 



14 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

Oil belialf of the poet. The result finally was that we 
both Avere quite of a mind concerning the merits of Mr. 
Arnold's work. We felt equally confident in makinj^ 
light of its claims to be recognized as a product either of 
true genius or of true art. 

Now, 1 take it, we two, my friend and I, probably 
very well repi-escnt the great majority of all Mr. 
Arnold's admirers. These need but some motive to ex- 
amine with heed the real quality of their poet's produc- 
tion, to see it at length in the same light as that in which 
it came to present itself to us. In this sentiment, the crit- 
icism following is offered to the readers that it may find. 

After the '' Light of Asia " first appeared, it remained 
for a time uncertain what would be the fortune of the 
poem with the public. During that interval of doubt, 
serious criticism could judiciously be silent. The poem 
might not be admired. To prove, then, that it ought not 
to be admired, v/ould be as barren as it would be dull. 

But the case now is widely otherwise. The public has 
been taken by storm — a kind of snow-storm, if, led by 
verbal suggestion, one may thus suddenly go for his 
metaphor from war to weather. The '' Light of Asia," 
in its different editions, soon fairly blanketed the Eng- 
lish-speaking lands. And the clouds continued to 
thicken. Out of them descended the '" Iliad of India." 
Next came ^' Pearls of the Faith." Latest, but, I grieve 
to fear, not last, '^Indian Idylls" is upon us. It is 
clearly time to speak out. 

1 am going to speak out. I shall be very frank. 
But I shall be not less candid. And I begin with freely 
admitting that, all things considered, Mr. Arnold's 
performance in the '^ Light of Asia" was certainly a 
very clever, as it was a very lucky, one. He was a 
journalist, and he wrote a poem, or wdiat passed for a 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 15 

poem, of some length, and he did it surprisingly quick. 
The poem was much praised, and it became, at least here 
in America, decidedly popular. The American '' recep- 
tion" of it, the author himself was willing, in his printed 
letter to his American publishers, to admit, was '^ magnifi- 
cent" — a form of admission, to be sure, by no means 
so significant for a journalist, as it would be for a poet, 
to make. 

There are, in the world of letters, two problems about 
equally diflicult — one is to tell beforehand where popu- 
larity will strike, the other to tell afterward why it 
struck there. Literary popularity, in fact, is very much 
like lightning in this respect. The lightning, however, 
indisputably struck Mr. Arnold, and, on his own part, 
intelligent curiosity to know the cause, might well give 
way to unreserved enjoyment of the sensation. We, on 
om' part, who remain astonished, but otherwise disin- 
terested, spectators of the ''magnificent" phenomenon, 
may pro^^erly enough muse a little the reasons of it all. 
I accordingly submit herewith a volunteer conjecture of 
the reasons why the " Light of Asia " became suddenly 
so j^opular — for one would shoot liowe'er in vain a ran- 
dom arrow from the brain. 

In the first place, then, there is the large class already 
referred to of cultivated people, hospitably disposed be- 
forehand toward good literature, and ready to be set in 
favor of any new book that seems suitably accredited 
with praise from the critics. That praise certainly was 
not wanting in the j)resent instance from our American 
periodical organs of literature ; and although English 
voices in general preserved an instructive silence, there 
did not, as will presently be shown, fail at least one ap- 
parently authoritative utterance from England too in 
euloo:v of Mr. Arnohrs work. 



16 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

111 tlie second place, tliere are plenty of people, not 
exactly cultivated, who like stories, and do not mind if 
tlie stories arc told in verse. These people, then, good- 
liuinoredly call this liking of theirs a liking for poetry. 

In the third place, those same people, together with a 
considornhle nnmher of others, are mnch pleased to 
accuMuiLite infunnation, or what they fondly suppose to 
be information, on all sorts of subjects. Of course, it is 
again no objection, if the information is conveyed in 
metrical form. 

In the fourth jilace, there is a still different class, 
made up partly from a contingent not so included, that 
find great satisfaction in being liberal in their views. It 
is emphatically no objection if the subject in question be 
religion. These people feel the pleasant pains of intel- 
lectual enlargement, as they doubt not, when they lay 
themselves freely open to let the '^ sympathy of re- 
ligions" ferment and expand within them. 

Once more, there are some that hate to hear Aristides 
forcn'-or called the just, and that therefore are only too 
glad to believe of Jesus that lie is but one of many v^ery 
nearly, if not (piite, as " high and holy and gentle and 
beneficent" as lie. These people know so little, at first 
hand, of Jesus, that they can read about r>uddha in Mr. 
Arnold's poem, without once dreaming that what they 
think admirable in the Indian prince's personality and 
action as thercMn displayed, is largely Jesus made to mask 
under a pagan disguise. They can condescend to admire, 
when they would not submit to obey. If Jesus will be 
somebody else than Himself, and will go far enough 
away from them not to stand at the door and knock, they 
will almost worship — His counterfeit, for the sake of 
aflronting—llim. 

If now we add that, a fashion of adnn* ration toward a 



AS POETIZEIl AND AS PAGANIZEll. 17 

particular work being once set, or bidding fair presently 
to be, an innumerable remainder of people to whom 
being out of the fashion, is being out of the world — if, 
I say, we add that the admirers of a successful literary 
production are sure to be reinforced and supported by 
the flocking in to their standard of an uncounted herd of 
such, why, there is, in the problem of the popularity of 
Mr. Edwin Arnold's ^' Light of Asia," little perhaps re- 
maining to be solved — and that little may fairly be re- 
ferred to the merits of the work for solution. 

The merits of the work are, prettiness, fluency, a fair 
degree of clearness, real Oriental color (this last conces- 
sion is subject to important exceptions) — and the fact that 
it was written by a journalist. These favorable points 
I have sought to arrange in their true order of climax. 
It does indeed seem to jrie the chief praise of the poem, 
that the poem was written by a journalist. Not that it 
was written very rapidly by a journalist, not even that it 
was written by a journalist in '' the brief intervals of 
days without leisure," but that it was written by a jour- 
nalist at all. This is no disparagement of Mr. Arnold's 
respectable profession. It is no disparagement of indi- 
vidual members of that profession. Among journalists 
are undoubtedly men of genius, as well as men of talent 
and character. William Cullen Bryant was an example 
in both classes at once. What I say simply recognizes the 
fact that journalism is so very different an affair from 
poetry, that long practice in it almost, not quite, hope- 
lessly disqualifies the subject for the " accomplishment 
of verse." Mr. Arnold could not, 1 judge, have been a 
poet, even if he had not been a journalist ; but that, 
being a journalist, he should have produced so success- 
ful an imitation of poetry, entitles him to praise. 1 
could not honestly add simplicity to the enumeration of 



18 EDWIN- ARNOLD, 

Mr. Arnold's merits ; for tlic simplicity of style, wliicli 
of course 1 recognize as present, is not a genuine sim- 
plicity. This will, 1 think, appear to every candid 
reader of sense, from a consideration of the style in 
wdiich Mr. Arnold has written his preface. Here the 
author expresses himself in his own proper manner, and 
that manner, it will be seen, is as remote as possible 
from simplicity. 

In the very iirst sentence — but now I enter upon a lit- 
tle examination of Mr. Arnold's preface, which, though 
T myself think it important, some readers may thiidv dull, 
and they therefore are entitled to skip it— Mr. Arnold 
says he has " sought hy the medium,' ' etc. In the next 
sentence he writes, '^ which had existed and surpasses ;'''' 
''any other ybrm of creed ; " '' folloimrs^'^ of a creed 
(for professors or adherents). In the third sentence, lie 
tells us " four hundred and seventy millions of our race 
live and die in the tenets of Gautama." Leave out the 
word ''live," and you have it stated that a certain 
definite large number of people " die" in the " tenets of 
(iautama." "Die" when, pray? "Within what limits 
of time ? We are left to conjecture. If he had said 
uncounted millions '' Jiave\\YG(]. and died," that would 
have been intelligible, and then he might have added, 
" so many peo])le are now living." But no, this number 
of people, four hundred and seventy millions, are living 
and dying — " live and die" habitually, we may suppose, 
and alternately, as it might be said that they " eat and 
sleep. ' ' 

The next sentence in order, that is, the fourth, in- 
forms us that " the most chai-acteristic habits and con- 
victions of the Hindus are clearly due to the benign in- 
fluence of ]juddha's precepts." The form of expression 
here need not be objected to ; but what is it that we find 



AS I'OETIZEIl AND AS PACANIZEll. 19 

expressed ? If Mr. Arnold had said, '^ some of tlio hest 
traits in Hindu character and belief," instead of saying 
*^ tlie most characteristiG habits and convictions of the 
Hindus," he would have made a more credible assertion. 
The Hindu character should be admirable, very admiraljle, 
to have ^' the most cJiaracteristiG habits and convictions 
of the Hindus" due to 2i '^ henign influence" of any 
sort, no matter what. Of what other race could it be 
said that their most characteristiG habits and convictions 
are due to a " henign influence" of any sort ? Surely so 
broad a generalization in favor of an exceptionally high 
moral character in the Hindus, must awaken in the Occi- 
dental breast more of surprise than of conviction. Mr. 
Hardy, in his ^' Legends and Theories of the Buddhists," 
p. 205, says : " Among the millions of the Hindus, 
Buddha has not now a single worshipper. . . . The 
minister of the powerful Akbar, in the sixteenth cen- 
tury, could find no one in the wide dominions of his 
master, who could give him any explanation of the doc- 
trines of Gotama [Buddha]." Ungrateful Hindus, after 
having been regenerated to a degree beyond example by 
Buddhism, to have let Buddhism slip away from them, 
as they have done, and to have embraced Bralimanism 
instead ! A prognostic, by the way, not very favoraljle 
to that prospect of ^^ immortality" for Buddhism which, 
as will presently be seen, Mr. Arnold very strongly claims 
in its behalf. 

Seriously, what is tliis Hindu national character, that 
it should ])e thus praised by Mr. Arnold ? But that is a 
cpiestion which may better Ije postponed to a later part of 
the essay. Let us pursue a little farther our inc^uisition 
into the quality of thought and expression that his pref- 
ace may lead us to expect from Mr. Arnold. 

The sentence next succeeding says that prince Gautama 



20 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

Bucldlia's ^^personality," ''though imperfectly revealed 
in the existing sources of information, cannot but appear 
the highest, gentlest, holiest, and most beneficent, with 
one exception, in the history of Thought." "In the 
history of Thought "—" Thought "—note the capital 
letter. But w^hy, "history of TlwiigliV f Why not 
just " history " ? A " personality," if that term means 
the personal character of a real historic person, belongs 
not to the " history of Thought," but to history. Per- 
haps Mr. Arnold intends to insinuate, in a manner not 
to offend sensibilities, that Buddha, and Jesus, are mere 
conceptions of the human mind. Ap]3arently, however, 
not — for, farther on in the preface, he says : " The 
Buddha of this poem — if, as need not be doubted, he 
really existed." Still this too is inconclusive as to Mr. 
Arnold's true meaning, if he had any true meaning. 
The sentence is probably pure " journalism." 

We skip to the sentence in which the journalistic 
rhetoric of the preface culminates : "In point of age, 
therefore, most other creeds are youthful [Mr. Arnold is 
provident to tell us it is 'in j)oint of age,' that 'most 
other creeds ' are ' youthful ' — we might otherwise have 
supposed it was in point of personal appearance !] com- 
pared with this venerable religion, which has in it the 
eternity of a universal hope, the immortality of a bound- 
less love, an indestructible element of faith in final good, 
and the proudest assertion ever made of human free- 
dom." First, observe the fine climax — existing in the 
contrary sense — from the " eternity of a universal 
hope," whatever that high-sounding phrase may mean, 
to " the proudest assertion ever made of human free- 
dom" ! Now what is it for a religion to have in it " the 
eternity of a universal hope "? 1 have seen a number 
of ingenious people work their brains over that single 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 21 

expression, more than Mr. Arnold probably worked liis 
brain over the entire preface, to try what sense they 
could make it yield to their quest. The most satisfac- 
tory guess was this : Because Buddhism offers something 
that everybody would like to get, and somewhat expects 
to get, (" a universal hope"), therefore Buddhism will 
always continue to exist. A line sense truly ! — the im- 
plication being that any religion will always continue to 
exist, if it only proposes, no matter on what evidence of 
its trustworthiness, to fulfil a hope that everybody 
cherishes ! 

The next phrase is nearly as grandiose, " the immor- 
tality of a boundless love," Besides being ^'eternal," 
this religion is also somehow '' immortal " ! Its ^' eter- 
nity," however, springs from one cause, while its ''im- 
mortality" springs from another. Buddhism is ''eter- 
nal" because it offers something that everybody hopes to 
get, but Buddhism is "immortal" because — because — 
one is at a loss, it is something about " a boundless love" 
— whose the love may be, is not clear, probably Buddha's 
"love" — Buddhism is "immortal," let us say, because 
Buddha's " lov^e" is, or was, "boundless." Next, 
Buddhism "has in it" "an indestructible element." 
We do not yet escape the idea of "eternity." The 
idea at least bids fair to be " eternal"— in Mr. Arnold's 
rhetoric. This time, however, it is not quite the reli- 
gion of Buddha itself that reappears as "eternal," or 
"immortal," or "indestructible." It is now some- 
thing in the religion, an " element" — namely, " faith 
in final good." The religion, then, exercises faith. 
This faith, exercised by the religion, is an " element" 
in the religion, and it is "an indestructible element," 
hence, probably, the religion which exercises the " in- 
destructible element" is itself "indestructible." One 



22 EDWII^ ARNOLD, 

would have been disposed, without further argument, 
to admit a religion, that had already been proved 
both ''eternal" and "immortal," to be also "in- 
destructible" ; but reasQus are as plenty as blackberries 
with Mr. Arnold, and nobody will deny that, in this 
case, the last reason has, on the score of pure merit, an 
equal right with the others to be mentioned. But be- 
sides being alike "eternal," "immortal," and "in 
destructible," this religion contains " the proudest asser- 
tion ever made of human freedom." This now might 
also have been turned into a reason for — let us see, pred- 
icates "eternity," "immortality," "indestructibility" 
provided for — well, into a reason for, say, the pernia- 
nency of Buddhism ; we should then have had an 
"eternal," an " immortal, " an " indestructible," and 
a " permanent" religion, with appropriate reasons sever- 
ally corresponding ; but the rule of " not too much" is 
absolute with Mr. Arnold, and he contents himself with 
simply stating his fact, not taking the trouble to indicate 
any relation whatever of his fact to the general tenor of 
the sentence. A proud assertion of human freedom, is 
a recommendation for Buddhism that will be appreciated 
by those who may be in need of such a religion as merits 
the recommendation. It is a case much resembling the 
classic one famous by the fame of President Lincoln's 
wit. For those that like this sort of thing, this would 
be just about the sort of thing that they would like. 

1 am bound now to add that one of my literary 
friends, a diviner, deep far beyond plummet of mine, in 
matters of mystical sense, insists with me that I have 
myself made a wide blunder in trying to comprehend 
Mr. Arnold in this sentence of his. The true meaning, 
as expounded by my friend, is something that I, with 
my thick organ of utterance, should vainly undertake to 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 23 

express. I felt it but right, however, toward Mr. 
Arnold, to make this statement, even to my own con- 
fusion. I can truly say that my failure, if failure there 
has been, is one of the head and not of the heart ; for I 
sought diligently to understand my author right. 

In all candor, such writing as this of Mr. Arnold's — 
which, if my exegesis stands, hides in verbiage a mean- 
ing that instantly confutes itself, when simply expressed 
— is a sign of intellectual, not to say of moral, character in 
the writer, that no reader can wisely neglect. One sen- 
tence like the last sentence examined, is enough to settle 
it, at least to a very high degree of probability, that its 
author has nothing to say worth our paying attention to. 
It would be impossible for any good writer, in a sound 
state of mind, to produce such a sentence as that, and 
propose it seriously to the public. In truth, that sen- 
tence has almost the character of travesty. If it were 
travesty, deliberately designed, it would be less depress- 
ing than it is. It lacks genuineness ; that is, it fails to 
be the expression of any real thought or conviction of 
the writer. Now, in yeasty youth, a man destined to be 
eventually a good writer, may no doubt deliver himself 
of much nonsense, that he, at the time, considers to be 
fine writing, and that imposes itself for fine Meriting upon 
readers of a certain class. But the characteristic ten- 
dency of a fundamentally good writer is to become more 
and more genuine, as he advances in age and experience. 
Whatever may happen to him in respect of anything 
else, in respect of genuineness at least, the fundamentally 
good writer becomes better and better. He may fall 
under a sinister influence and degenerate in various 
minor respects, but in respect of genuineness, I repeat, 
the good writer, if he be fundamentally good, is certain 
to grow better, and not worse. Mr. Arnold is not a 



24 EDWII^ ARNOLD, 

young man. His faults are not the hopeful fanlts of 
youth. They are the faults of the man, and not the 
faults of a stage in the man's development. Any single 
characteristic sentence, accordingly, of his production 
enables the thoughtful judge of style to determine his 
true rank and worth in literature, with as much certainty 
as Cuv'ier felt in classifying an extinct animal on the 
basis of a single fossil bone. 

Let no reader misjudge me as delighting myself in 
pointing out minor faults in a piece of writing generally 
good. My criticism of this preface of Mr. Arnold's is 
no such barren, hard-hearted exercise on my part. On 
the contrary, it is, to such as may be pleased to follow it 
carefully, not a mere piece of petty carping, but a 
demonstration that the writer of that preface is a funda- 
mentally false writer — false, I mean, not in the sense of 
wilfully mendacious, but in the sense of not being con- 
sciously and conscientiously true in expression to some 
real thought, sentiment, conviction, fancy, existing in 
his mind. 

It w^ill be agreed, 1 think, that Mr. Arnold's preface 
is a very unprepossessing piece of literary Avorkmanship. 
It is exactly newspaper writing. It does not prepare 
you to expect to find the author of it a true poet. You 
read it, and you feel like the justice who, after hearing- 
one side of the cause, declared himself bent on listening 
with condign impartiality to what the other side might 
have to urge in reply, but gave notice that in any case 
he should eventually decide against the defendant. 
You ponder Mr. Arnold's preface, and resolve with vir- 
tue not to read the poem in a prejudiced spirit ; but in 
spite of yourself you go on knowing perfectly well in your 
heart that at last you shall give your verdict against it. 
How could it be otherwise ? 



AS rOETIZER AKD AS PAGAISTIZER. 25 

1 have so entitled tins critique as to bind myself to 
pay some attention to wliat Mr. Arnold lias done in 
verse, apart from that which must be regarded as his 
principal work. My obligation in this particular is easily 
discharged. From his sujDplementary volume of verse, 
with great promptness thriftily put forth in the imme- 
diate wake of its fortunate predecessor, I select a repre- 
sentative short poem for a moment's examination. Tlie 
piece is entitled '' The Three Roses." Let us take it up 
at once. To do so will be no break to the unity and 
progress of the main criticism. On the contrary, it will 
be exactly in the line of what I found myself saying just 
now in comment upon the preface to the " Light of 
Asia." I was remarking on the lack of genuineness 
exemplified in Mr. Arnold's work. This lack of 
genuineness is betrayed in the undigested, confused, dis- 
cordant character of the conceptions upon which his 
poems generally are constructed. 

" The Three Roses" seems to have been suggested by 
some lines of Mr. Aldrich, which Mr. Arnold prints as 
argument or preface to his own production. Mr. 
Aldrich mentions three roses bestowed, respectively, by 
a lover upon his beloved, by her paramour upon a har- 
lot, by a widowed mother upon her dead child. Mr. 
Arnold's poem has for its basis the conceit that these 
three roses experience translation to a spirit-world of 
roses where they contend for a "palm." Each rose 
prefers her own claim. Of their three several pleas, the 
]3oem consists. It is a paltry conceit at best, to serve as 
scheme for a poem. But observe the utter lack of 
unity, of consistency, with which even this poor conceit 
is carried out. In the first place, it is not stated what 
the pre-eminence is, that the competitors strive, respec- 
tively, to establish for themselves. The first rose sets 



2G EDWIIT ARNOLD, 

out : ^^1 am the happiest flower." The palm of happi- 
ness therefore might seem to be that for which they 
contend. But then the second rose begins : " I am the 
wisest rose. '^^ Number one is for excellence in happi- 
ness, number two is for excellence in wisdom. A queer 
competition for '' the palm " ! The third rose • com- 
mences : '' I was the hlessed flower." " TTa^," now, 
instead of " (^m," as before ; but why, nobody but Mr. 
Arnold, if even he, could tell. The third rose is for 
excellence in blessedness. A most extraordinary conten- 
tion for " the palm " ! It is a case in which it would 
need Solomon come again to award the prize. There 
should of right have been three palms corresponding to 
the three claims of the competitors. Manifestly, how- 
ever, there was but one, for number three says : '' Give 
back the crown, dear sisters." The " palm," it w^ill be 
observed, has become the '' crown." And there is but 
the one. However, the one crown is a very peculiar 
crown, for two, it seems, may have it together. How the 
two can manage to wear it — whether the croAvn is 
double, the several parts being attached to each other by 
a sufficiently long copula of some kind, or whether the 
distracted winners must content themselves with having 
it on their heads by turns — does not appear. Still, if the 
crown is double, it might as well be triple ; or, if, on 
the other hand, it is a single one worn successively by 
two different holders, it might be as well by three — and 
so unpleasant disappointment be avoided all around. 
Number three says, '' Give haoTc the crown." She, 
then, had once had ''' the crown." How she got it, or 
why she should have surrendered it, conscious as she 
was all the time of a right to it that would presently 
make her claim it back again — this is one of the many 
riddles that Mr. Arnold gives us no rneans of solving. 



AS POETIZER AN-D AS PAGANIZER. 27 

Be it noted, that tlie tliree roses seem to constitute in 
themselves at once the group of competitors, and the 
court of award. Number three, therefore, has twice, as 
judge, given aw^ay the prize which now in turn she, as 
competitor, demands to have restored to her. Is it not 
all prettily conceived ? 

But we must not delay ourselves with the multiplied 
minor inconsistencies, contradictions, and impossibilities, 
involved in this crude and chaotic representative little 
poem of Mr. Arnold's. The chief absurdity is still to 
be noted. Mr. Arnold gives to his readers the cue for 
interpreting his piece in these two introductory lines : 

" Three Eoses (in the world we do not see) 
Strove for the palm. Thus spake the beauteous Three." 

In accordance with the information thus conveyed, 
whatever is said by the translated roses — it being said by 
them only to one another, and being said in that '' world 
we do not see" — should of course properly have a char- 
acter congruous to these conditions. But this is far 
enough from being the case. '' The Widow's Bose" 
says, describing her own experience in translation, to 
sister roses, who, by the hypothesis of the poem, had both 
of them enjoyed substantially the same experience : 

' ' There shine no sunbeams so on earth, 
There is no air blows in such wise 
As this that swept from Paradise 
And turned grave-gloom to grace and mirth. " 

lN"ow this, nobody can fail to see, is said as if the 
" Rose" were addressing herself to an earthly audience, 
and were imparting information to those w^ho had not 
yet enjoyed an enlightening experience like her ow^n. It 
is thus utterly inconsistent with the whole conception on 



28 EDWIl^ ARNOLD, 

which the poem set out to be framed. The same rose 
goes on : 

" I saw liim rise unspeakably." 

Now it was, so the next stanza represents, '' clasped in 
that small hand," the hand of the widow's dead son, 
that this rose reached the spirit- world of roses. Yerj 
well, '' clasped" in that hand, how conld she see him 
'' rise nnspeakably" ? Manifestly this too is said from a 
point of view entirely out of keeping with the v^ery idea 
of the poem. A spectator remaining below might 
'^ see^^ such an '^unspeakable" ascension. The rose, 
held fast within the shut hand, might '^ feel" the ascen- 
sion she was sharing; but to speak of ''seeing" it 
would be contrary to the conception. 

But Mr. Arnold's oblivion of his plot becomes more 
declared and complete in the speech of the harlot's rose. 
This rose, with truly remarkable forgetfulness of where 
she is, does not hesitate to say : 

" In all f/»'.9 earih there is not one 
So desolate and so undone, 
Who hath not rescue if ihex) knew 
A heart-cry goes the whole world through." 

This stanza, with its irreconcilable incongruity, its 
awkward construction, its harsh discord of tenses and 
other bad grammar, may stand for its own sufficient 
commentary. It need only be said that the other poems 
of the collection are worthy of their association with 
this. This is named, by a no less cultivated critical 
authority than the Atlantic Monthly^ first, among three 
that are by it pronounced the " most noticeable and the 
best of the collection." The Atlantic Monthly review 
commits itself farther to the judgment that Mr. Arnold 



AS POETIZER AIS"D AS PAGAN^IZER. 29 

*' is a thorougli artist"! ^'Artist" indeed! I would 
almost rather call liim a poet. I have nothing further 
to add about the miscellaneous poems of Mr. Arnold. I 
come back to his '' Lio^ht of Asia." 

Before advancing, however, to the poem itself, let us 
still give attention to an instructive sentence or two more 
of the preface. '^ Finally," says Mr. Arnold, ^' in rever- 
ence to the illustrious Promulgator of this ' Light of Asia ' 
[whom, choice of words, the capital letters, and the 
quotation-marks being considered, can this expression 
properly designate but Mr. Arnold himself ? — for my 
own part, I am disposed to think that Mr. Arnold here 
was truer than he meant to be] and in homage to the 
many eminent scholars who have devoted noble labors to 
his memory for which both repose and ability are want- 
ing to me, I beg that the sliortcomings of my too- 
hurried study may be forgiven." ]N"ow, just what 
happens, or is to happen, 'Mn reverence td^^ (Mr. 
Arnold, or) Gautama, and '' in homage to the eminent 
scholars" alluded to, is a trifle indeterminate. Does Mr. 
Arnold ''beg" ''in reverence" and " in homage " ? 
Or is the forgiveness begged for to be granted "in 
reverence" and "in homage"? "Reverence ^6>" 
Buddha might incite a man, conscious of that sentiment, 
to do his best in presenting Buddha favorably to an 
irreverent public ; the same emotion might incline such 
a man to seek forgiveness from Buddha for not succeed- 
ing to his own mind ; but I cannot see why " reverence 
to^^ Buddha should incline the man, with reference to 
people that do not care a button for Buddha as an object 
of worship, to beg pardon of these for not gettino^ on 
better in his pious purpose. Mr. Arnold might well, as 
1 tliiuk, and as I am about to show, pray to be forgiven 
for the literary faults of his work ; but that prayer on 



30 

his part slionld, in order to get its answer, be inspired 
by " reverence to," not Bnddha, but the public against 
wboni bo lias committed bis sin. lie may be sure tbat 
we, for our part, we presumptive Cbristians, sliall not 
forgive bim a moment tlie sooner, or a sbade tbe more 
freely, because lie begs us in ^' reverence to" Biuldba. 
By "repose," Mr. Arnold probably means wbat otlier 
men would express by tbe word " leisure," or " oj^por- 
tunity." Men do not generally speak of ''^ i^e/pose^^ for 
" labors.'''' Tbe next sentence reads, " It has heen com- 
posed in tbe brief intervals of days witbout leisure [?] 
but /,s^ inspired by an abiding desire to aid in tbe better 
mutual knowledge of East and West." Tbe closing 
sentence of tbe preface is as follows : " Tbe time may 
come, 1 bope, wlien tbis book and my ' Indian Song of 
Songs ' will preserve tbe memory of one wlio loved India 
and tbe Indian peoples." About every second man tbat 
reads, or tbat bears read, tbe preface, understands tbe 
expression " one wbo loved," to point out Gautama. 
Tbe better interpretation bas it tbat Mr. Arnold bimself is 
tbe man intended. Now wbat definite future time Mr. 
Arnold could bave bad in mind " wben" tbis preserva- 
tion of bis own memory sliould take place, I bave vainly 
tried to conceive. One accomplisbed friend suggests 
tbat tbe autbor's deatb is tbus, witb Attic politeness, 
alluded to. But tbis would represent Mr. Arnold as 
" boping" for tbe time of bis deatb, wbicb be is not yet, 
I am ])ersuaded, Buddbist enougli to do. Does be mean 
a time wben every tiling else tbat be may bave done, or 
said, or written, sball bave been forgotten, and notbing 
but tbesc two ])oems of bis sball be remombored ? Tbat 
would leave bim '' boping" tbat only tbese two poems of 
bis will survive in buman memory. Mr. Arnold's luck 
as a poet gives bim excellent reason to be abo])eful man; 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAXIZER. 31 

])ut assuredly lie does not 'Miope" either that he will 
die, or that everything of his work except these two 
poems of his will perish. By the way, can the mention 
of the '' Indian Song of Songs" have been smuggled in 
^jiisthere, in the spirit of thrifty advertisement, to make 
admiring readers aware that the author of the " Light of 
Asia' ' had written another poem worthy to be named 
v/ith that, as perhaps destined to preserve the poet's 
memory, after everything else that he had done, or 
should do, was soundly forgotten — forgotten, in fulfil- 
ment of his ''hope" that the time might come when 
such should be the case ? " Loved India and the Indian 
peoples" — "India" first, and after India, the "Indian 
peoples" ! The journalistic sense of rhythm, one may 
guess, rather than any real meaning in the v/riter's mind, 
determined this duplicate form of expression. 

So much for Mr. Arnold's preface. Let us con- 
tinently turn away from it, leaving it still an im ex- 
hausted mine of illustration for the journalistic, as con- 
trasted with the poetic, spirit. Wo come to the poem. 



11. 



The poem is narrative and exposition, mixed. It is 
divided into eight books. It is conceived as the produc- 
tion of a Bnddhist votary. To what audience it is con- 
ceived to be addressed by tliis votary, 1 iind it not easy 
to say. It miglit be a long-drawn rhapsodic soliloquy, 
but in just such a soliloquy as that whi(;h this poeni would 
make, even a Buddhist votary could hardly be insane 
enough to indulge ; for tlie poem contains passages 
evidently designed to describe and explain, as for readers 
not familiar with things in the East. This consideration 
embarrasses one too in attempting to regard the poem 
as addressed to an Eastern audience. Probably Mr. 
Arnold had no definite conception in tJie matter. His 
votary narrates and expounds for Avhomsoever, anywhere 
in the world, he may get to read what he writer. The 
consequence is, that the Orientalisms of the poem are too 
much explained for the East, and too little explained for 
the West. 

In truth, wherever we read Mr. Arnold in his poetry, 
we discover the lack of whole and consistent conception. 
This characteristic of his I have already sufiicientl}^ illns- 
trated, in comment on one of his nn'nor poems. He has 
no imagination. He abounds in conceits and fancies ; 
but one distinct conception of the imagination, I have 
yet to meet with in his work. Pk)t to his poem, there 
is almost none. The only macliinery consists in his 
" imaginary Buddhist votary," and this person's part in 



AS POETIZIDR AND AS PAGANIZE II. 33 

tlie poem is so little necessary that, except for Mr. 
Arnold's advertisement of it in tlie preface, the reader 
would scarcely suspect ])ut it was ^' one who loved India 
and the Indian peoples" that was saying it all. The 
ir.iai^inarj Buddhist votary is a viiry shadowy disguise. 
For the rest, the plan of the poem is baldness itself. 
Mr. Arnold simply goes through the m;tss of legends 
concerning Gautama, selects for relation incidents beJong- 
iug to successive stages of that personage's experience, 
intersperses descriptions full of wearisome detail — which 
may be ti-ue to Oriental life, but wiiich arc not lighted by 
one ray of imaginative power — toward the last gives us, in 
laborious quatrains followed by a few couplets, an exposi- 
tion of the dreary plan of salvation proposed by Buddha, 
and closes all with an absurd invocation of that '' Savior," 
in which the climax seems to be a little outlandish 
jargon, which, whether English readers guess it Sanscrit, 
Bali, or Singhalese, will of course be utterly unintelli- 
gible to them, and, worse, of such an effect in sound as 
to be rather ridiculous than impressive. There perhaps 
never was a poem of equal length more destitute of merit 
as respects invention. Tlie only thing invented, in the 
way of plan for the poem, is, as I have said, the 
" imaginary Buddhist votary," and he ^' writes" — for 
the invention is so strangely poverty-stricken that there 
is even no contrivance to have the '' votary" located any- 
where in time, space, circmnstance, occasion — he does 
not speak, he ^' writes," when, wdiere, why, to whom, I 
defy anybody to tell ; indeed, except, I believe, for one 
passage in the eighth book, you have to go out of the 
poem into the preface in order to learn that it is a 
'• votary," and not Mr. Arnold himself, to whom you 
are giving attention. 

With respect, then, to that wliieli is always the cln'ef 



34 . EDWIN" AR^^OLD, 

tiling in a poem, namely, the conception, the invention, 
of it as a whole, the " Light of Asia" is utterly wanting. 
It is here in fact incredibly cheap. It is a pleasantry, of 
the most Titanic proportions, to talk of this production 
as an ''epic." At most, and at best, it is a series of 
idylls of the Buddh. The mere statement of the con- 
tents, of the eight books into which the poem is divided, 
will suffice to show how destitute of imaginative, con- 
structive, creative, merit, how^ baldly mechanical, 
chronological, is the order of arrangement. Book I. 
deals with the birth and prodigious infancy of Gautama. 
Book II. treats of his effeminate youth and his mar- 
riage. Book III. describes his luxurious life as a young 
married prince. Book lY. relates his forsaking of his 
wife and son to become an ascetic. Book Y. details inci- 
dents of his ascetic life. Book YI. tells how his ascetic 
practices resulted in his becoming Buddh. Book YII. 
brings him back a Buddh to his father, his wife, his son, 
and his kindred. Book YIII. contains a specimen of 
Buddha's preaching, or rather an exposition of his 
doctrine. There is little here that is not simple, servile 
following of the course of the legends. What Mr. 
Arnold has done is to cull a number of things out of the 
enormous mass of stories, mythical and other, concerning 
Gautama Buddha, and versify them for English-reading 
23eople. 

Has he done this well, as a matter of literary perform- 
ance ? Has he done it well, as a matter of just 
biographical and doctrinal representation ? These two 
questions, in their order, may divide for us the present 
discussion. I state them a second time in different 
words. Is the " Light of Asia" good poetry ? Is the 
'' Light of Asia" good history ? 

These two questions are quite distinct. The " Light 



AS POETIZER AISTD AS PAGANIZER. 35 

of Asia" might be admirable as literature, while untrust- 
worthy as representation of fact. On tlie other hand, 
the " Light of Asia" might fail as literature, and be 
nevertheless valuable as a source of information. AYc 
will keep these two questions as separate from each 
other as possible in our investigation. 

Let us begin by granting to Mr. Arnold unlimited 
freedom as to matters of fact, that is, as to matters of 
principal fact. We will not for the present question the 
truth of his main narrative. We will suppose it true. 
"We will make to him the same vast concession that we 
make to Homer, to Yirgil, to Milton, concerning mere 
tale, plot, machinery. " Given these things all entirely as 
Mr. Arnold would have them, has he used them w^ell, 
has he made good poetry with them ? So far as, in our 
purely literary criticism, we may happen to deal 
with what purports to be expository of Buddhist teach- 
ing, we will still maintain the same attitude. We will 
stick at nothing. Buddhism shall be what Mr. Arnold 
says it is, and it shall merit all the enthusiasm he may 
think lit to bestow upon it. We will limit ourselves 
closely to asking. Has he presented this admirable thing 
admirably ? All this complaisance, on onr part, is to bo 
exercised strictly while we are considering the work as 
poetry. Afterward, we will challenge Mr. Arnold as 
freely as we please respecting his fidelity to the truth of 
liistory and of doctrinal exposition. But not now. 
Now we provisionally grant everything — save and ex- 
cept literary excellence. Respecting the matter of lit- 
erary excellence, we make our inquisition. 

'We have already found reason to deny to this poem 
the chief praise that can be due to any poem — the praise 
of being one consistent, harmonious, imaginative whole. 
We need only repeat that denial here. Tlie " Light of 



36 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

Asia," if It 1)0 ])ronoiinccHl n^ood poetry ;it nil, Diust he 
pronoiiDced i>-()()(l jxKjtry solely on the yroinid of" hue exe- 
eiition in detail. 

I'ii-st, let lis i^xainiiie the versiiiejitioii. Yersiiicatioii 
is ])(U-ha|)S as eoin})letely external a cluiraeteristie as any- 
thing!; ])ertainini;- to ;i ])oeni. That eharaeteristic indeed 
is far from heinij;- eoniphitely external. The metre, tlie 
rhythm, the melody, the harnioiiy, are as mueh of the 
])0(^try, as, aeeordini;- to tlui I'rench })hrase, the style is of 
tlic^ man. Still, teelmically and nc^o-ntively considered, 
the versilieation of the " Li<j^ht of Asia" might he good, 
and the poetry of the poem he poor. Or, on the otlier 
hand, the versification might he fnll of technical fanlts, 
and the poetry nevertheless he line. What is the fact 
with reference to Mr. Arnold's hook ? The fact, in one 
word, is, that tlie A^ersilication of the " Light of Asia" is 
not good. There are parts of the poem, especially the 
fifth, sixth, and seventh hooks, in which the vorsincation 
is fairly correct, smooth, and iinent. It even hecomes 
not seldom decidedly grateful to the ear. ]-*)ut generally 
it is mere metre, without any such variety in movement 
and pause as is needful to make metre more than metre 
— rhythm also, and harmony. This, wlu;re the metre is 
n{^gatively good ; hut the metre itself is often not simply 
not good in even a negative sense, hnt had ; and not sim- 
ply bad, hnt flagrantly had. 1 give examples — not in- 
deed of the ])revah!nt mechanical character of the versi- 
fication — I should need to (piote page after page for that — 
hut oi' the positive faults. In citing instances, we may 
;is well observe in gcMicral the order of i\ni poem itself. 
It is hardly worth while to classify the faults. 

'* And know | in{j; tlui | time conxo - fm- all things know — " 

*' Ing-the" — we are obliged tlius to scan the hue — is 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 37 

an iambus that it would be impossible for a nice ear to 
admit into verse. 

" The portents troubled, till his dream-reader.s-." 

Tlie enforced accent on the final syllable in '^ dream- 
reaiders^^ illustrates a favorite expedient of Mr. Arnold's 
for increasing the facility of versification. The effect is 
very wliimsical on the sense trained to feel tlie delicacies 
of metre and rhythm. Let us so far classify here as to 
cluster a few more specimens of Mr. Arnold's freedom 
with unaccented syllables occurring at the close of his 
lines. The reader will of course observe tliat what I 
thus exemplify from Mr. Arnold, is not ilie well- 
authorized usage of adding here and there a hyj^er- 
inetrical syllable without accent, after the verse is metri- 
cally complete. In Mr. Arnold the unaccented syllable 
is not hypermetrical. It belongs to the regular scansion 
of the verse. And its metrical position compels you to 
give it the accent. As if to make the effect as bad as 
possible, Mr. Arnold, oftener than otherwise, it will be 
noted, contrives to have his closing light syllable pre- 
ceded by a full weighted spondee : 

" Gaped on the sword-players and posture?-5." 

" The jugglers, charmers, swingers, rope-walkers." 

•' Tokens of cave-men and the sea peop/es." 

*' Lord Buddha kept to all his schoolmas/ers." 

" Amid the blossoms of the rose-ap/^Zc." 

"But they who watched the i:)rince at prize-givi/?^/." 

** And always breathed sweet airs more joy-giving." 

" In tress of singing-girl or nautch-dance?-." 

" Gathered to watch some chattering snake-tamer." 

"By day and night hero dwelt the World-honoreri." 

" A band of tinselled girls, the nautch-dancers." 



38 EDWIN ARKOLI), 

*' Now by that river dwelt a iandhol(^e>\" 
" Of beauty and the rosy breast-blossoms. " 

Mr. Arnold likes this trick of his own so well that he 
nses it sometimes elsewhere than at the close of lines. 
For instance, 

" He said, and what my dreani-reade/'s foretold." 
" The fish-tigt'r of that which it had seized." 

So much may suffice for display of one peculiarity in 
Mr. Arnold's art of verse. I have been tediously full in 
citation that readers may recognize the fault exemplified 
to be frequent and not rare. Now let us gather in 
heap other of his metrical peculiarities, to be assorted and 
arranged and labelled at their own pleasure by leisurely 
readers and admirers of this poet. I cite here, let it be 
remembered, simply in the way of illustrating Mr. 
Arnold's mastery of the versifying art. 

" Turkises, ' evening-sky' tint, woven webs." 

(A " web" is defined in the dictionaries, "something 
n'oivmy Mr. Arnold makes assurance doubly sure. 
These "woven articles" are " woven," he tells us.) 
"What hearer of the foregoing line would suspect that it 
was intended to be metrical ^ 

"And life is woe, therefore in sev-en days." 

Consider that "'seven" is a word of one syllable, the 
second e in it being silent. "Evening" too has Use 
after v silent, forming thus a ^vord of two sylhibles. 
Now read, and admire tlie ear for metre which could let 
Mr. Arnold make the following line : 

" Which fell : for on the seventh o-ven-ing." 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 30 

And this : 

" And see the peoples of the e-ven-ing." 

And these : 

** Lo ! all these sev-en fears are sev-en joys." 
" Therefore upon the sev-enth day, there went." 
" Wail desolate, for e-ven that must go." 

And these following, witli their spasmodic interruptions 
(;f fZ-soiinds, which it would need a professional stutterer 
to give the full delicious effect of : 

*' And in the wood they undivided died." 

*' By blood ; nor gladden gods being good with blood." 

" Broad-spread to glide upon the free blue road." 

The last is a line intended to represent the '' smooth- 
sliding" flight of the swan. The recurrence of (^-sounds 
in it, the over-abundance of consonants, the length of 
the syllables, but especially the unlucky combination, in 
the three closing words, of letters requiring laborious re- 
adjustment of vocal organs to pronounce them in succes- 
sion, would make this line a bad one for any purpose, un- 
less it were for the purpose of representing some baffled 
and obstructed movement. But for the purpose of rep- 
resenting the easy sailing of the swan in migration 
^'through the azure deep of air," nothing could well 
be worse. Contrast Mr. Lowell's line, descriptive of a 
somewhat similar thing : 

To swim on sun.shine masterless as wind. 

" Rich inl&jing.s of lotus and of bird." 

" Otherwise housed than kings, otherwise fed." 

" V/ove for me ; hot the strife waxed in that M'ood," 



40 EDWINS' ARNOLD, 

" Nay, it may be some of the Gods are good." 

*' And cheat his high?iess into happi/iess." 

" Thus filed thej^ one bright maid after another." 

" In the lovely court- -her dark glance dim, her feet." 

" Where love was gaoler and deligh/s i7;>' bars." 

As I said, it would be quite out of the question to 
represent by instances tlie prevailingly meclianical cliar- 
ac'ter tliat belongs to the versilication tlirougliout. 
There are plenty of pleasant words — or rather a limited 
number of pleasant words are repeated often enough — 
there are some musical combinations, there are a few 
lines that have a rhytlnn and movement of their own, 
there are long passages in which there is certainly a 
sweet flow of sound ; but of rich, varied, harmonious 
versification, worthy to be compared with Shakespeare, 
Milton, Shelley, Tennyson, even with Bryant, there is 
not an example. 

It will perhaps be fair, at this point of strong denial to 
Mr. Arnold, to give a passage in exemplification of his 
quality at its best. 1 select the passage descriptive of the 
circumstances under which Buddha delivered his teach- 
ing before the king (his own father) and the circle of his 
Jvindred. It was a signal occasion, and Mr. Arnold, 
feeling that he has now reached the point of culmination 
in his poem, exerts his powers to the utmost — with result 
as follows (the imaginary Baddhist votary speaks, or 
rather writes) : 

" I cannot tell 
A small part of the splendid lore which broke 
From Buddha's lips : I am a late-come scribe 
Who love the Master and his love of men, 
And tell this legend, knowing he was wise, 
But have not wit to speak beyond the books ; 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZEK. 41 

And time hath blurred their script and ancient sense, 

Which once was new and mighty, moving all. 

A little of that large discourse I know 

AVhich Buddha spake on the soft Indian eve. 

Also I know it writ that they who heard 

Were more — lakhs more — crores more — than could be seen, 

For all the Devas and the Dead thronged there, 

Till heaven was emptied to the seventh zone 

And uttermost dark hells opened their bars ; 

Also the daylight lingered past its time 

In rose-leaf radiance on the watching peaks, 

So that it seemed Night listened in the glens 

And Noon upon the mountains ; yea ! they write. 

The evening stood between them like some maid 

Celestial, love struck, rapt ; the smooth -rolled clouds 

Her braided hair ; the studded stars the pearls 

And diamonds of her coronal ; the moon 

Her forehead jewel, and the deepening dark 

Her woven garments. 'Twas her close-held breath 

Which came in scented sighs across the lawns 

While our Lord taught, and, while he taught, who heard — 

Though he were stranger in the land, or slave, 

High caste or low, come of the Aryan blood. 

Or Mlech or jungle-dweller— seemed to hear 

What tongue his fellows talked. Nay, outside those 

Who crowded by the river, great and small. 

The birds and beasts and creeping things — 'tis writ — 

Had sense of Buddha's vast embracing love 

And took the promise of his piteous speech ; 

So that their lives — prisoned in shape of ape, 

Tiger, or deer, shagged bear, jackal, or wolf, 

Foul-feeding kite, pearled dove, or peacock gemmed, 

Squat toad, or speckled serpent, lizard, bat ; 

Yea, or of fish fanning the river- waves — 

Touched meekly at the skirts of brotherhood 

With man who hath less innocence than these ; 

And in mute gladness knew their bondage broke 

Whilst Buddha spake these things before the king. " 

I am now in tlie midst of a special examination of Mr. 
Arnold's versifying art. It would therefore violate the 
order of our discussion to enter here at large upon any 



42 EPWIX ARXOLD, 

general criticism of this passage considered as poetry. 
Considered as verso merely, tlie passage, witli certain 
obvious exceptions, deserves to be praised for its pleasant 
and musical flow. It is a movement decidedly grateful 
to the ear. We need to make exceptions for the line, 

" Were more— lakhs more— crores more — than conld be seen," 

in which the strange words have an outlandish effect, 
and for the line, 

" Till heaven M'as emptied to the sev-enth zone," 

in which ^^ seventh " is, according to Mr. Arnold's habit, 
made to do duty as a dissyllable ; but these apart, 
there is not very much to mar the melody of the verse. 
It is the ear, however, not the taste, or the judgment, 
that is pleased. And since this is avowedly a critical 
essay, and since it will be inconvenient to return here- 
after upon the present extract, I may guard myself 
against being suspected of gratuitously grudging whole- 
hearted praise to my author, by pointing out in part, as 
I pass, why I do not think the foregoing passage to be 
genuine poetry. To say nothing of the poor conceit 
about the evening's likeness to a '' love-struck" maiden, 
with her various personal adornment — done, the whole 
of it, in the taste of a French hairdresser — there lacks, 
as usual with Mr. Arnold, the one integral conception 
that must always preside in order to secure unity, con- 
sistency, truth, in a poetical, or indeed in a merely 
rhetorical, representation. It was evening, dayliglit 
lingered, it was cloudy, it was starry, the moon shone, 
and the ''dark" was ""deepening.'' ]Sow, as long as 
'' daylight lingered," the dai'kness could not '' deepen" ; 
and then, after daylight withdrew, as long as the moon 



AS POETIZEll AND AS PAGANIZER. 43 

shone, the darkness could not '' deepen." The darkness 
was necessary to carry out the details of the similitude to 
be enforced between the evening and a maiden ; imagi- 
nation slept, wliile fancy waked, in the writer, and hence 
there should be ^^ deepening dark" at the same time that 
there was the double, but contradictory, brilliancy of day- 
light and moonlight. (By the way, is the " love-struck" 
maiden to be imagined as having been all the time in 
gradual process of getting her " woven garments" on ? 
The '^ deepening dark" apparently was all the dress she 
wore, and this, during the interval of her greatest need — ■ 
that is, while '^ daylight lingered " — must have been dis- 
tressingly inadequate.) The simple truth is, the picture is 
one that no mind can take in as a whole — for the reason 
that it does not constitute a wliole. It is an assemblage 
of particulars that do not naturally go together. In a 
word, it is not a picture — an impossible picture — that Mr. 
Arnold here presents us, so much as something else not 
a picture at all, but a mass of bright color in blotches. 
The analogy between evening and a maiden is too deli- 
cate and elusive to be coarsely handled. Eun it out into 
allegory, and you make it rather curious than suggestive, 
less pleasing than ridiculous. Contrast Wordsworth's 
one sufficing stroke of such comparison : 

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; 
Tile holy time is quiet as a Nun 
Breatliless witli adoration. 

That is poetry — the true article. For the difference 
between a literary decorator's massing of unharmonized 
details, and a real poet's picture of the imagination, 
contrast again Milton's description fol-lowing : 

Now came still evening on, and twilight gray 
Had in her sober livery all things clad ; 



44 EDWIK ARNOLD, 

Silence accompany'd ; for beast and bird, 
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests. 
Were shmk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; 
She all night long her amorous descant sung ; 
Silence was pleas'd : now glow'd the lirmament 
With living sapphires ; Hesperus, that led 
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, 
Eising in clouded majesty, at length 
Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light. 
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threv/. 

The true is often by itself alone a suflicient toncli- 
stone for tlie false. Milton of course described evening/ 
in progress, whereas Mr. Arnold is describing, or sliouldj 
be, evening in suspense. But between the two descrip- 
tions there" remains nevertheless the radical diiference of 
false and true. 

From this attention to Mr. Arnold's poetry as poetry 
(which has been in the nature of a digression), let us return 
to consider somewhat further the quality of his poetry as 
verse. The trick of versifying in Mr. Arnold, wliich 
imposes upon readers, not on their critical guard, to 
make them think that he does good work, is a mere trick, 
a mannerism, caught from many diffei-ent sources, but 
mainly perhaps from Tennyson, as Tennyson writes in 
his ' ' Idylls of the King. " Take this line, for instance— 
who does not perceive at once how exactly it is fashioned, 
though not well fashioned, in rhythm, upon the model 
of Tennyson ? 

" Spread, and the world's heart throbbed, and a wind blew." 

Or this : 

" Splendid, six-rayed, in color rosy-pearl." 

Or this, with its manneristic repetition of '' rule" : 
" Which gave him earth to rule, if he would rule." 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZEK. 45 

Compare Tennyson's : 

The temples, and the people, and the shore, 

with Mr. Arnold's : 

" The temples, and the gardens, and the groves." 

It may justly be said tliat there are few, very few, lines, 
or even phrases, of rhythm, in Mr. Arnold's versification, 
that are at the same time good and original. Here, for 
example, is part of a line from the song sung to Gau- 
tama by the Devas, in ''the voices of the wandering 
ivind" — this song, by the way, is one of the very best 
passages in the whole poem ; it hardly misses being really 
good — 

*' But life's way is the wind's way. " 

Longfellow has ; 

A boy's will is the wind's will. 

Tlie ear observant of rhythmical effects perceives that, 
quite apart from the similarity of thought in these two 
phrases, there is an almost absolute identity of move- 
ment in versification. The explanation of such coinci- 
dences probably is, that Mr. Arnold's musical sense 
instinctively notices and retains a peculiar passage of 
rhythm, but that this happens with liim without active 
consciousness on his part. The instinct and the trained 
skill to create new effects are wanting to him. He is an 
amateur, nothing higher, in tlie art of verse. Let me 
run the risk of confuting myself before my readers, by 
giving here the song above alluded to. Mr. Arnold de- 
serves his chance, and he shall have it. Is not this that 
follows almost fine ? 



46 EDAVIN ARNOLD. 

*' We are the voices of the wandering wind, 
Which moau for rest and rest can never find; 
Lo ! as the wind is so is mortal life, 
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife. 

*' Wherefore and whence we are ye cannot know, 
Nor where life springs nor whither life doth go ; 
AVe are as ye are, ghosts from the inane, 
What pleasure have we of our changeful pain ? 

" What pleasure hast thou of thy changeless bliss ? 
Nay, if love lasted, there were joy in this ; 
But life's way is the wind's way, all these things 
Are but brief voices breathed on shifting strings. 

*' O Maya's son ! because we roam the earth 

Moan we upon these strings ; we make no mirth, 

So many woes we see in many lands. 

So many streaming eyes and wringing hands. 

*' Yet mock we while we wail, for, could they know, 
This life they cling to is but empty show ; 
'Twere all as well to bid a cloud to stand, 
Or hold a running river with the hand. 

" But thou that art to save, thine hour is nigh ! 
The sad world waiteth in its misery, 
The blind world stumbleth on its round of pain ; 
Eise, Maya's child ! wake ! slumber not again ! 

" We are the voices of the wandering wind : 
Wander thou too, O Prince, thy rest to find ; 
Leave love for love of lovers, for woe's sake 
Quit state for sorrow and deliverance make. 

" So sigh we, passing o'er the silver strings, 
To thee who know'st not yet of earthly things ; 
So say we ; mocking, as we pass away, 
These lovely shadows wherewith thou dost play." 



III. 



We now dismiss tlie matter of metrical form as ex- 
emplified in Mr. Arnold's work, to take up matters of 
more interior concern. Let us go inward, by gradual 
approaches, to the heart of the work. After considering 
the execution of a design in poetry as far as relates to 
mere correctness and elegance of metre and rhythm, we 
may naturally next inquire. How well has the poet done 
in point of diction and syntax ? Has he a rich and 
choice vocabulary, does he use words w^ell, and are his 
constructions good ? I proceed to satisfy curiosity in 
this regard. It is a humble quest — an Aristarchian 
criticism, some may say ; but words and sentences are 
necessary to the expression of thought, and let us be 
patient. 

'^ Aho !" is a specimen of interjection from Mr. 
Arnold's mint. It comes in very finely at the end of a 
line. The passage is a pathetic one, and '' Aho !" takes 
the burden and ictus of the pathos : 

" Whose bappy music lulled me, but — alio ! — " 
Isn't it touching ? It recalls the famous. 

Oh, Sophonisba, Sophonisba, oh, 

of James Thomson, with its fatal echo from the gallery. 

Oh, Jemmj' Thomson, Jemmy Thomson, oh, 

but of course it has the merit, which that lacked, of 



48 EDWI^^ ARNOLD, 

something original in diction. "Dumbed'' is a verb 
wliicb Mr. Arnold thinks it well to revive. '' A-dead" 
is another happy coinage of our poet : 

" Lo ! as ye lie asleep so must ye lie 
A-dead." 

" A-swoon," "a-roast," are additional examples of 
Mr. Arnold' s verbal invention, like in taste. The per- 
haps nnconscioiis art with which, by antithesis or by 
metrical accentuation, the poet calls our attention to his 
prettier strokes, should not go unobserved. 

From sleep to death, and tlien from death to life, and 
back again, are such weaver's-shuttle movements with 
Mr. Arnold, that it is natural here to quote 

" 'Oh 3-e,' it said, 
The dead that are to live, the Jive who die." 

"The live'' for "the living"! " A-down," as a 
matter of course. " Wood-glooms'' forms a " perfectly 
lovely" compound that would please the miss just entered 
upon her teens. " Blood-gouts" for " drops of blood " 
may not strike the young person so pleasantly. 
" Arithmic" for " arithmetic" is in Mr. x^rnold's most 
Miltonic vein of diction. " Upstood," not for " stood 
up,'' in the sense of rising to the feet, but to mean 
"remained standing," occurs. Tvro trees 

" Siddartha's blade shred at one flashing stroke, 
Keen, but so smooth that the straight trunks iijysioocV 

"Keen, hii so smooth" — as if there were opposition 
between the keenness and the smoothness— as if a blade 
did not, quite to the contrary, cut smooth, because of its 
being keen. But in Mr. Arnold's peculiar style, it is 
neither the blade that is "keen," nor the 2:ash that 



AS POETIZER AKD AS PxiGA:N'lZER. 49 

is '^ smooth." It is instead tlie '^ stroke'^ tliat is '^ keen, 
hut smooth." 

It is, as the reader will have seen, hard work to keep 
one's shillelah to its true present mark, the show of head 
is everywhere so inviting in Mr. Arnold. We were 
attending to the matter of diction in our poet. Is the 
following a point of diction, or what is it ? Mr. Arnold 
makes his prince say : 

" Nay, if I had yon callow vulture's plumes — 
The carrion heir of wider realms than mine — 
How would I stretch for topmost Himalay, 
Light where the rose- gleam lingers on those snows 
And strain my gaze with searching what is round!" 

'' Plumes" are feathers, and wings with feathers are 
instruments of flight. Feathers, however, are not instru- 
ments of flight — not even if you call them '^plumes.". 
But what is a '' callow vulture "? It is a vulture not 
yet furnished with feathers — an unfledged, featherless, 
naked bird. We find, then, Mr. Arnold's Buddha sigh- 
ing for a particular style of '' plumes" to flj with, they 
must be the plumes of a " callow-vulture" — that is, the 
plumes of a vulture without plumes. Prince Buddha 
was vaporing to his wife at the time. If his wife had 
had half the wit of a common woman in these parts of 
the world, she would have said to her husband, ^' Plumes 
of a callow vulture, forsooth ! You needn't wait for 
them. You have got them already. That is just the 
kind of plumes you have on this moment ! Xow 
* stretch ' away with them, as fast and as far as you 
please — good riddance and happy voyage to you, and 
don't trouble yourself to come back here again, I beg of 
you, till at least you get your pin-feathers out !" 

'' Jewelled" is a fine adjective that Mr. Arnold hkes. 



50 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

He uses it no less tliaii six times in his fonrtli book 
alone. The tawdry taste indicated by its being nsed at 
all, (Milton never nses it, Shakespeare never, Tennyson, 
save in that scornfnl line of the ''Maud," " jewell'd 
mass of jnillinerv," I believe never,) and the poverty, 
embarrassing the ambition, of style, indicated by its 
being nsed so frequently, suggests an instructive com- 
parison and contrast. I consult a copious verbal index 
to Milton's poetry. There, as 1 have indicated, 1 do not 
find the word " jewelled' ' occurring — that, nor any other 
word of like descriptive tone. The more general words 
of somewhat similar import (which we might of course 
look to see occur oftener) appear in Milton as follows : 
''Splendid," once in the whole of " Paradise Lost "; 
"stately," four times; "gorgeous,'' four times; 
" magnificent,'' three times. Such is the parsimony of 
real opulence. But poverty cannot alford to be parsi- 
monious. It must go " jewelled," lest it be counted poor. 
The bedizenment of adjectives, such as " sweet," 
" soft," " tender," " bright," " glad," " beauteous," 
"radiant," "rich," "stately," incessantly recurring, 
must strike every observant reader of the '' Light of 
Asia.' ' A little arithmetic here will be useful. There is 
as yet no concordance to Mr. Arnold'f^ poetry, and 1 have 
had to go laboriously about the business of getting my 
census. However, I was lucky enough to enlist some 
ready helpers with young eyes, and have thus had ap- 
proximate count taken of the number of times that cer- 
tain words occur in the " Light of Asia." The results 
furnished me 1 myself tested for their correctness, by 
requiring that the local reference should invariably ac- 
company each time of a word's occurring reckoned in 
the list. I may not have got — probably 1 have not — all 
the places where the specified words do occur ; but cer- 



AS POETIZKR AND AS PAGAXIZER. 51 

tainly 1 liavc none where tliey do not occur. Tlie coin- 
2:)arison witli Milton and with Tennyson, as tliese poets 
are given in the verbal indexes to their works, is more 
than curious, and more than interesting —it is instruc- 
tive. The " Light of Asia" contains about forty-five 
hundred lines, against about ten thousand five hundred 
in the '' Paradise Lost." In the '^ Light of Asia," the 
word "sweet," inflected or compounded, occurs sixty- 
nine times — or once in every sixty-five lines ; in the 
" Paradise Lost" sixty-six times — or once in every one 
hundred and fifty-nine lines. Mr. Arnold, therefore, 
employs that word about two and a half times as often 
as Milton. The word "tender," with suffix, or in- 
flected, or compounded, appears twenty-five times in the 
"Light of Asia," against six times in the "Paradise 
Lost" — Mr. Arnold thus using that word nearly ten times 
as often as Milton. The word "soft," variously modi- 
fied, the " Light of Asia" contains fortj^'-one times ; the 
" Paradise Lost" thirty-three times — that word being 
thus worked about three times as hard by Mr. Arnold as 
by Milton. Similar, perhaps even more striking, resnlts 
would be exhibited by the comparison of Mr. Arnold 
with Tennyson. Tennyson, before the concordance was 
published of his poetry, had produced a volume of verse 
many times greater than that contained in the " Light of 
Asia." Consulting that concordance, 1 find that the 
common adjective " bright" is reported as occurring in 
the whole body of his poetry, the " Princess," the " In 
Memoriam," the "Idylls," and all the lesser 2)ieces, 
twenty-eight times against twenty-four times in the 
" Light of Asia" alone ; "soft," twice in all Tennyson 
against twenty-four times in the "Light of Asia;" 
"' tender," seven times in Tennyson against thirteen times 
in the " Light of Asia," and so forth. 



52 EDWIX ARNOLD, 

The explanation of these contrasts is verj simple. 
Mr. x^rnold deals in stock conceptions, and so stock 
words, especially stock adjectives, answer his purposes. 
Milton and Tennyson, on the other hand, have indi- 
vidual conceptions, conceptions differentiated according 
to the new occasions respectively arising, and these 
well-defined conceptions need, not stock words, but 
descri|)tive words, fitted to them with curious felicity, for 
their expression. For this reason, any good reader of 
Milton or of Tennyson vv^ill be able ofteii, on challenge, 
to recall the line, or the connection, in wdiich, for in- 
stance, some given, perhaps quite common, adjective 
occurs. The worn and common word becomes fresh — as 
if new-made — in a great master's use. Mr. Arnold, on 
the contrary, only rubs the trite word more trite in using 
it. He does not handle it carefully, does not set it in a 
new light. It is the same old word — so much older now, 
issuing from his hands — become too smoothly familiar to 
carry any distinctive sense. There was no distinctive 
sense given it to carry. It had no feeling of individual 
responsibility impressed upon it from the user for a mes- 
sage that it was to deliver. It is naturally lifeless there- 
fore, and therefore naturally it delivers no message. 
Such is nearly everywhere the spiritless aspect and be- 
havior of Mr. Arnold's words. He uses words much 
as those J^oung ladies do, with whom all things indiffer- 
ently are, on the one hand, " lovely," '^ splendid," and 
so forth, or, on the other hand, " perfectly horrid." Let 
us make further study of his diction. 

He is describing an encounter of Buddha in the street 
with ''an old, old man." "His dim orbs blear with 
rheum, ' ' is one of the descriptive phrases used. ' ' Blear' ' 
itself, without accompanying clause, means, as the 
dictionaries show, ''dim with rheum." To say, then. 



AS POETIZER AN'D AS i'AGAJNlZEK. * 5.3 

^' liis dim orbs blear," is to say ^^ lils dim orbs dim with 
rliemii. " ^owadd, as Mr. Arnold does, '• witii rlieiim" 
to tliat, and you have it stated that it was '' with rheum 
that his dim orbs were dim with rheum," — a statement 
which, however overloaded, would seem exceedingly 
probable. 

In the luxurious picture of Gautama's pleasure-house 
with its multitude of queens asleep, this occurs : 

" . . . their gloss}' hair 
****** 

In black waves down the shapely nape and neck.'' 

'' Nape" is defined, in the dictionaries, to be the ^' back 
of the neck." It was therefore down the " back of the 
neck and — neck," that the hair flowed. 

It would be quite endless to exhibit the solecisms and 
other faults in diction that swarm upon this poem. Let 
us stop abruptly here, and turn to something else. We 
will allow ourselves to abandon strict analysis and be for 
a time as miscellaneous as we please. 

There is in the first book of the poem a curious story, 
for aught that I have discovered original with our poet, 
about Gautama's boyhood, designed, apparently, to illus- 
trate the ^'sweetness and light" of his character. The 
princely lad seeing once a wounded swan fall fluttering 
on the ground, took it tenderly on his '' lap." calmed it, 
soothed it, plucked out the arrow still infixed, and healed 
the hurt. The little fellow — that is, the little prince — 
then toj^ed with the '^arrow's barb," — the "arrow's 
point" would antecedently have seemed more probable — 
and the bright idea occurred to him that he would see 
how the sharp steel that had hurt the swan so would feel 
in his own flesh. He seems to have selected his wrist as 
an appropriate part to make his experiment upon, and 



54 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

really he had the extreme quickness of wit to ''wince" 
when he felt the steel-point "sting." This experience 
is represented bj Mr. Arnold as the first occasion of 
Gautama's knowing pain, the cause, or the sensation. 
He was, it appears then, as susceptible to pain as children 
in general. But he had never, for example, bumped his 
head, or got pricked with a pin ! i^ow take the re])re- 
sentation contained in this little figment of Mr. Arnold's 
fancy, and try construing it to your common-sense. 
Gautama sees the swan suffer, he knows what makes it 
suffer, and he relieves it — yet, ''"' curiously," 

"... all so little knew the boy of pain," 

he thrusts the steel barb just drawn from the wing of 
the swan into his own wrist, and " winces" to feel it 
'' sting" ! Certainly this is an exhibition of precocity on 
the part of young Gautama, every way worthy to be — 
invented by Mr. Arnold. It yields such a pretty impres- 
sion of Gautama's promise as a juvenile savior ! 

" And Devadatta, cousin of the prince, 
Pointed his how, and loosed a wilful shafl 
Which found the wide wing of the foremost swan 
Broad-spread to glide upon the free blue road, 
So that il fell — " 

The question here is, was it the '' bow," or the '' shaft," 
or the " wing, " or the ''swan," or the "road," that 
"fell"? 
Again : 

"... among the palms 
The tinkle of the rippling water rang, 
And where it ran the glad earth 'broidered it 
With balsams and the spears of lemon-grass." 

The " tiidde" " rang" — a thing so out of the common 



AS POETIZER AKL> AS PAGANIZER. 55 

for ^'tinkle/' that it deserved noting — and wlierc it 
^' ran" (Mr. Arnold's poetic mood teems so with music 
that rhymes and jingles roll out from him of their own 
accord), '^ the glad earth 'broidered it w^ith balsams and 
the spears of lemon-grass." Well, it has never happen- 
ed to me to see tinkle running, and I have never seen 
tinkle '^ 'broidered," much less tinkle 'broidered while 
running, ('broidery under such circumstances ought to be 
a rather nice trick,) but I do not know why, if running 
tinkle were to be 'broidered at all, it might not as 
well be 'broidered with balsams and the spears of lemon- 
grass as with anything. The effect of such " 'broidery" 
might, I should say, be quite unique. 

In the same passage, elaborately descriptive of rural 
life, from which the foregoing citation is taken, we find 
a very ambitious account of a kind of ploughing-match : 

*' All up and down the rich red loam, the steers 

Strained their strong shoulders in the creaking yoke 

Dragging the ploughs ; the fat soil rose and rolled 

In si]?iooth dark waves back from the plough ; who drove 

Planted both feet upon the leaping share 

To make the furrow deep." 

Kow, this has no doubt made the impression upon 
many hasty readers of being good description. And 
there are here, it need not be denied, some separate 
graphic strokes that ansv/er their descriptive purpose 
very well. But consider the scene as a vision of the 
imagination. It is the office of the imagination to con- 
ceive a wdiole, great or small, as a whole, and then so 
to order the details which fill it out that they shall all be 
mutually consistent. Without such exercise of the 
imagination, on a writer's part, there can be no really 
good description. The soil ploughed is described as 
'^ rich red loam." *' Loam" is an earthy mould yielding 



50 KDWIN AHNOLl), 

cM^ilv niul evenly to the plonglit^hare. AVitli tliis eoii- 
ee]>tion agrees the language, '' the fat soil rose and rolled 
in smooth dark vraves haek from the plough"*' — hj the 
way, an excellent stroke of description — but with this 
conception is utterly and irreconcilably at war the 
word '* leaping/' in what follows : ^' AVho drove phui ted 
both feet upon the leaj.)ing share." The plouglishare 
would move steadily and equably through such a soil as 
tliat described. It would not " leap.'' There would bo 
nothing to make it " leap." ITowever s\\'ifily it might 
move, it would, as to direction up and down, move uni- 
formly. ^Yhat nudves a ploughshare '^ leap'' in moving, 
is some obstruction, like a root or a stone, encountered 
in its course. Then, however, it would recpiire a degree 
of swiftness in the motion to niakc ''leaping," used to 
describe it, other than an extravagant word. Kow, any- 
bodv that has ever witnessed plouii-hiuii: done with oxen, 
knows that it is far from being a matter of delirious 
speed. Oxen seldom tear along at a madcap rate di-ag- 
ging a plough. 1 cannot answer for the style of plongh- 
ing fashionable in India at the somewhat indeterminate 
date of Mr. Arnold's narrative. But I should be sur- 
prised to learn that the ploughman then rode npon his 
j^longh, and still more to learn that, if he did so, he 
planted both his feet upon the 'Meaping sharc.^' The 
l)eam of the plough would be, as I should guess, decided- 
ly a more natural rest for the feet of the liilarious rider 
and driver. The share is the blade that divides the soil. 
An unusual attachment, especially adapted for such a 
purpose, would be required to render the share of a 
plough at all eligible as a support to the feet of a man 
borne " darkly, fearfully afar," after a pair of cankering 
oxen, while these made the gleaming knife '' leap" along 
the smoking furrow. 



AS I'OFTIZKK AKD AS PAGAXIZKlt. o7 

The simple far^t seems to be tliat Mr. Arnold Ijad it in 
Lis heart to write a fine description. He thought he 
would liave the soil '* a rich red loam ;" that would 
sound well, and it would produce the general effect of a 
pleasing fertihty. "Steers." "strained," "'strong," 
would furnish alliteration. Spirit would be imparted to 
an action otherwise tame, if the ploughshare, buried 
deep in the yielding soil, should " leap." " Leap" there- 
fore it should — for no cause whatever, but solely out of 
its own jocund and salient rnood. Such is Mr. Arnold's 
dominant idea of fine description ; for the present pas- 
sage is but an exemplification of his prevalent manner in 
describing. 

Now as to the truth in local color belonirincr to this 
description of ploughing in India. I quote from AVard's 
"' India and the Hindoos," p. 196 : 

" The plough used by the farmer consists of two 
rnde sticks, or one if sufficiently crooked, with an iron 
spike at the end, as a share, which the ploughman guides 
v;ith one hand, while he uses the other in directing the 
movements of the cattle ; thus making a rut or scratch 
in the field similar to the movement just beneath the soil 
of a strong finger. Entering a village at an early hour 
of the day, you will see the farmer going to his toil, 
l^earing upon his shoulder yoke and plough, which he 
steadies with one hand, while with the other he holds 
the rope-reins fastened to his tiny bullocks.'' 

Headers will probably feel that Mr. Arnold's descrip- 
tion was somewhat boldly idealized from the actual facts 
in the case. A discomposing suspicion is unavoidably 
engendered respecting the trustworthiness of a reporter 
that regards hiujself as warranted in dealing thus freely 



OS l-DWIN ARXOLD, 

with the tnUli of tilings. It will be curious to compare 
Mr. Arnold's own probable authority, Mr. R. Spenco 
Hardy. Ironi Mr. Hardy's '' Manual of Budhisni " (p. 
153\ an authoritative translation of the Singhalese version 
of the Buddhist legends, I take the following (there 
is a kind of bucolic festival in progress, attended and 
participated in by the king, (iautania's father') : 

'* About a thousand ploughs start at once : of these, 
" one hundred and eight are made of silver, and the 
''horns of the bullocks that draw them are tipped 
'' with silver, and adorned with white flowers ; but the 
''plough held by the king is of gold, and the horns 
''of the bullocks attached are also tipped with gold. 
" The king takes the handle of the plough in his left 
" hand, and a golden goad in his right ; and the nobles 
' do the same with their ploughs and goads of silver. The 
king makes one farrow, passing from east to west ; 
the nobles make three ; and the rest of the plough- 
men then contend with each other who shall pei-form 
" their work in the best manner." 

Ko indication here at least of the king's riding with 
both royal feet 2~)lanted on the rearing and plunging 
^^/lare. Mr. Arnold nmst, one judges, have exercised 
his right as poet and transferred to ploughing the privi- 
lege enjoyed in these latter days by the happy charioteers 
of the Johnston Harvester. 

(Headers are asked kindly to note that the last preced- 
ing extract is printed with quotation-marks at the begin- 
ning of every several line. This expedient of typography 
is adopted unifonnly, throughout the present volume, to 
distinguish passages taken from the, translated text of 



ii 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAXIZER. 59 

Buddhist literature. Otlier extracts are quoted simply 
at the beginning and the end, according to printers' 
ordinary usage.) 

*' Sitting with knees crossed, as Lord Buddha sits," 

is one description by Mr. Arnold of Buddha's traditional 
attitude ; 

" Under a jambu-tree, with ankles crossed," 

is another. The representations with which we are all 
familiar spread the consecrated knees as far apart as pos- 
sible. It was the exigency of the verse, I suspect, that 
*' crossed ' ' them in the ^' Light of Asia." Let anybody 
try the experiment of '^ sitting [on the ground] with 
hues crossed, as," according to Mr. Arnold, ^' Lord 
Buddha sits," and he will find himself necessarily strik- 
ing an attitude even less picturesque 23erhaps than the 
one conventionally attributed to Buddha. 

The account of Gautama's meeting vWth that ^' old, 
old man" deserves more admiration than we have yet 
bestowed upon it. The poor old gentleman was indeed 
in a sad case : 

" One skinny hand 
Clutched a worn staff to prop his quavering limbs 
And one was pressed upon the ridfje of ribs.'' 

Both his hands thus are closely employed, but that, with 
Mr. Arnold, by no means prevents him from ^^stretch- 
ing," at the same time, his ^' palm" for alms. For, in 
the same passage, his cough is said to choke him, " but 
still he stretched his palm." One hand holding his 
crutch to stay his limbs, one hand pressed against his 
" ridge of ribs,' ' and "still " his " palm' ' " stretched " ! 
Pitiable person, he had three hands to suffer from the 
palsy with! His third hand he '' stretched "■— he 



60 EPWIlf ARNOLD, 

^' stretclied,'' observ^e, not '' stretclied forth.-' Not 
'Miancr' either, but '^ pahn" of the hand. This, we 
may conjecture, was to make the *' palm" as hirge as 
possible for receiving alms. The ''stretching" opera- 
tion, by the way, would, for aught I can see, require, to 
accomph'sh it, at least one hand, if not two, additional to 
the three-handed equipment already assigned to the 
party. Careful consideration, accordingly, gives this 
afflicted old gentleman, at the smallest reckoning, four 
hands. These, in his intervals of comparative ease, he 
could, animated by his palsy, employ in pairs shaking 
hands with himself witli assiduous cordiality. Judicious 
IDerinutation would secure considerable variety in this 
solitary social exercise. The manifestly legendary char- 
acter of the sufferer permits us to indulge such a consola- 
tory reflection. The suggestion even occurs, to be in- 
stantly put aside with reprobation, that this may have 
been a case of unworthy street mendicancy : the sly 
old rogue was forehanded, and did not need tlie alms im- 
plored. This relief, however, to our sympathy depends 
upon a pun — and a provincialism — and is to be pro- 
nounced illegitimate. 

The occasion was a festival display of virgin beauty 
devised by Gautama's father to entangle his son in the 
meshes of love : 

" So flocked 
Kapilavastii's maidens to the gate, 
Each with her dark hair ncMvly smoothed and honnd, 
Eyehashcs lustred with the soorina-stick, 
Fresh-bathed and scented.'* 

It is interesting to know from Mr. Arnold that these 
Indian damsels, about to jiresent themselves in competi- 
tion for a prize of beauty, did not neglect their morning 
toilet. They " newly smoothed and bound their dark 



AS POETIZEK AND AS PAGANIZER. 61 

hair," a thing, considering the circumstanceSj certainly 
very proper for them to do. '' Liistred " is a coinage 
of Mr. Arnold's. But now what was it that was '^ fresh- 
bathed and scented"? Was it the " soorma-stick," 
the ''eyelashes," the ''hair," the "gate," or the 
' ' maidens' ' ? If the ' ' maidens, " one can but admire again 
the prudence of these young ladies in taking their bath 
that morning, as, one trusts, was their usual daily prac- 
tice. " Scenting" themselves was a bit of personal 
pains, on their part, occasional perhaps rather than 
habitual, and pardonable rather than connnendable. 

The picture of Yasodhara, the destined wife of Gau- 
tama, coming up to the prince to claim her gift, is in- 
conceivably brazen, animal, and disgusting : 

" Eijes like a kind's in love-time, face so fair 
Words cannot paint its spell ; and she alone 
Gazed full — folding her palms across her breasts — 
On the boy's gaze.'' 

She "gazed," it seems, not on Gautama, not on Gau- 
tama's features, but on Gautama's " gaze." 

Later the young prince competes in athletic contests to 
win his bride. He subdues a horse untamable by others 
— " no rider yet had crossed him," is Mr. Arnold's w^ay 
of expressing it. " Crossing" a horse — ? One rival of 
Gautama's "held his seat awhile" on the back of this 
beast, 

" Lashed the black flank and shook the hit, and held 
The proud jaws fast with grasp of master hand." 

"Whether these several performances are to be conceived 
as consecutive to one another in the order named, or 
simultaneous, I will not venture to decide. If as con- 
secutive, then the rider, lirst, "held his seat awhile," 



62 EDWII^" ARITOLD. 

perhaps grasping the inane and tail in his desperate pur- 
pose, (there was no saddle to cling to,) secondly, ventur- 
ing to let go the one or the other, ' ' lashed the black 
flank," next, ''shook the bit,'- and, finally, seized the 
animal's jaws with his hands, (this must have employed 
both hands,) thus completing a very striking series of 
equestrian manoeuvres. But then the manoeuvres would 
have been still more remarkable executed simultane- 
ously — which very likely they were, for, as we have 
already seen, Mr. Arnold's people are provided with 
hands to any number desirable. The details present 
some few minor difficulties to the imagination. " He 
sJiooh the bit." Riders do, I believe, sometimes shake 
the bridle-reins, but shaking the hit I How he managed 
to shake a bit already in the horse's mouth, 1 am pleased 
to say that 1 think I can explain. The '' grasping" of 
the horse's jaws ''with master-hand" must, I judge, 
have been for the jDurpose of getting at the " bit" so as 
to " shake" it in the animal's mouth. Why, how^ever, 
this singular cavalier should have wished to " shake the 
bit," remains a deep mystery. It was probably mere 
and pure demonstration, horsemanship frisking out into 
wanton pranks, like the gargoyles of gamesome Gothic 
architecture. Gautanui at last went through Mr. Rarey's 
manual of practice, and fairly conquered the animal. 

Gautama, at a later point in Mr. Arnold's narrative, 
tells how, in a former state of existence, when he and 
Yasodhara were both tigers, they two became mates. 
He fought for Yasodhara's — hand, shall we say ? no, 
paw, fought for her ^^\y. She, lovely creature, came, 
so Gautama relates, 

" Snarling past this and that torn forest-lord 
Wliich I had conquered, and with fawning jat05 
Licked my quick-heaving flank." 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 63 

'^ Jaws" are such pretty things to '^ fawn" witli ! And 
then for the purpose of " licking," what so admirable as 
'^ jaws" ? Tlie sweet tigress's tongue must have been, 
with much care on her part, folded up and withdrawn 
into the posterior chamber of the mouth, not to have 
interfered instinctively with the '^ jaws," while these 
exercised their exclusive privilege of " fawning" and 
^'licking," — functions more naturally belonging to the 
organ that in this case practised, as would seem, a singu- 
lar self-deniaL 

It will perhaps interest some readers to see what mate- 
rial, for several at least of the foregoing representa- 
tions, Mr. Arnold could find in Hardy's "Manual of 
Budhism." I accordingly transfer to these pages an ex- 
tract from that work, pp. 155-159 : 

"When the prince attained his sixteenth year, his 
" father, Sudhodana, sent to Supra-budha, King of 
" Koli, to demand in m^arriage his daughter, Yasodliara- 
" dewi ; but that monarch thought that as Sidhartta 
" [Gautama] was to become a recluse, his daughter 
" would soon be left a widosv ; and he therefore refused 
" to send her to Kapilawastu. The princess, however, 
" firmly declared that even if Sidliartta were to become 
" a recluse on the day after his marriage, there was no 
" one else in the world to vv'hom she would be united. 
"When the prince was made acquainted with the oppo- 
" eition of Supra-budha, and with the reason upon which 
"it was founded, he said that he had no wish to receive 
" the kingdom though its rejection would include the 
" loss of Yasodhara as his wife. But as Sudhodana was 
" the lord paramount of the Sakya race, he went to Koli, 
" and notwithstanding the displeasure of her father, 
" brought away the princess, with much state. On his 



64: EDVVIX ARNOLD, 

return to Kupilawastii, after this successful expedition, 
he appointed Yasodiiani to be the principal queen of 
Sidhartta ; and placing them upon a mound of silver, 
he poured the oil of consecration npon them from 
three conches, one of gold, another of silver, and the 
third a shell opening to the right hand : after which 
lie bound upon their heads the royal diadem, and de- 
livered over to them the whole of his kingdom. Jle 
then sent to all their relatives on both sides, command- 
ing them to bring their princesses, that they niight be 
the inferior wives of Sidhartta, or remain as attendants 
in the private apartments of Yasodhara, but the rela- 
tives replied, ' The prince is very delicate ; he is also 
young ; even to this day he has not learnt a single sci- 
ence ; if hereafter there should be any war, he would 
be unable to contend w^ith the enemy ; he has not the 
means of maintaining our daughters ; we cannot, 
therefore, consent to send them to one who is so 
utterly destitute of every endowment that he ought to 
possess.' When the prince heard this, he resolved to 
exhibit his real strength ; and caused it to be pro- 
claimed throughout the city by beat of drum, that 
whosoever might be wishful to see his prowess, was 
invited to come to the palace in seven days from that 
time. On the day appointed, an immense pavilion 
was erected, and a vast multitude assembled in the 
court of the palace. Surrounded by a countless ret- 
inue, and in the presence of 160,000 of his relatives, 
he took a bow that required the sti-ength of a thousand 
men to bend it ; and placing the lower end on the nail 
of the great toe of his right foot, without standing up, 
he thrummed the string of the bow with his linger nail, 
as easily as if it w^ere merely the bow by which cotton 
is cleaned. The sound produced by the vibration of 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 65 

tlie string was so loud, that it rolled to the distance of 
a thousand yojanas ; and terror seized hold upon the 
inhabitants of Janibudwipa, as they supposed that it 
thundered, though it was not the season of rain. 
After this he placed four plantain trees at the corners 
of a square, and by one flight of the arrow pierced 
them all. Even in the dark he could send the arrow 
with so steady an aitn as to split a hair from which 
anything was suspended. The prince also proved that 
he knew perfectly the eighteen silpas, though he had 
never had a teacher, and that he was equally well 
acquainted with many other sciences. The relatives 
w^ere thus convinced by what they saw and heard that 
he was no ordinary being ; and soon afterwards 40,000 
princesses were sent to remain in the apartments of the 
palace. 

" Whilst living in the midst of the full enjoyment of 
every kind of pleasure, Sidhartta one day commanded 
his principal charioteer to prepare his festive chariot ; 
and in obedience to his commands, four lily-white 
horses were yoked. The prince leaped into the 
chariot, and proceeded towards a garden at a little dis- 
tance from tlje palace, attended by a great retinue. 
On his way he saw a decrepid old man, with broken 
teeth, gray locks, and a form bending towards the 
ground, his trembling steps supported by a staff, as he 
slowly proceeded along the road. The dewas [divini- 
ties] had seen that the time was now approaching when 
he was to become Budha, and it was one of their num- 
ber who had assumed the appearance that was pre- 
sented to the prince ; but it was seen only by himself 
and the charioteer. The prince inquired what strange 
figure it was that he saw ; and he was informed that it 
was an old man. He then asked if he was born so, and 



66 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

*^ the cliarioteer answered that he was not, as he was once 
** jonng like themselves. ^ Are there,' said the prince, 
'*' ' many such beings in the world ?' ' Yonr high- 
*^ness,' said the charioteer, 'there are many.' Tlie 
*' prince again inquired, ' Shall I become thns old and 
*' decrepit ? ' and he was told that it was a state at which 
** all beings must arrive. It was by the aid of the dewas 
'^ that the charioteer was enabled thus pertinently to an- 
*' swer. Tlie prince now^ saw^ that life is not to be de- 
*' sired, if all must thus decay; and he therefore pro- 
'' ceeded no further towai-ds the garden, but returned to 
^' the palace. "When Sudhodana saw^ him, he inquired 
*' why he had returned so soon ; and the prince informed 
" him that he had seen an old man, which had made him 
" resolve to become an ascetic ; but the king conjured 
'' him to put away thoughts like these, and enjoy him- 
'' self with the princesses of the palace ; and to prevent 
" him from carrying his resolution into effect, he placed 
*' an additional number of guards, extending to the dis- 
'' tance of eight miles round the city. 

" Four months after this event, as Sidhartta was one 
^' day passing along the same path, he saw^ a dewa under 
'^ the appearance of a leper, full of sores, with a body 
'^ like a water- vesseb and legs like the pestle for pound- 
'' ing rice ; and wdien lie learnt from the charioteer what 
" it was that he saw, lie became agitated, and returned 
" at once to the palace. The king noticed with sorrow 
" ^vhat had occurred, and extended the guards to the 
" distance of twelve miles round the city. 

''After the lapse of another period of four months, 
" the prince, on his way to the garden, saw a dead body, 
'' green wath putridity, with worms creeping out of the 
'' nine apertures, when a similar conversation took place 
'' with the charioteer, followed by the same consequence. 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAXIZER. 67 

Tlie king now placed guards to the distance of sixteen 
miles. 

'' There are some Budhas that appear when the age of 
man is immensely long, and in such instances the space 
of one hundred years elapses between these appear- 
ances. At the end of the next four months, on the 
day of the full moon, in the month ^sala, Sidhartta 
saw in the same road a recluse, clad in a becoming 
manner, not looking further before him than the dis- 
tance of a yoke, and presenting an appearance that in- 
dicated much inward tranquillity. "When, informed by 
the charioteer whom it was that he saw, he learnt with 
much satisfaction that by this means successive exist- 
ence might be overcome, and ordered him to drive on 
towards the garden. That day he sported in the water, 
put on his gayest apparel, and remained until the going 
down of the sun. The nobles brought the Gi different 
kinds of ornam.ents that are required in the complete 
investiture of a king, and a vast retinue of courtiers 
ministered to his pleasure. The throne of Sekra now 
became warm, and when he looked to discover what 
was the reason, he saw that it was the hour of the 
array of Bodhisat [a being destined to become Buddh]. 
He therefore called Wiswakarmma, and at his com- 
mand that dewa came to the garden in a moment of 
time, and arrayed Sidhartta in a celestial robe, more 
beautiful than all his previous magnihcence. The 
prince knew that he was a dewa, and not a man, and 
allowed himself to be enveloped in the robe. It was 
of so fine a texture, that when folded it did not fill the 
hand, and was indeed no larger than a sesamum flower ; 
yet when opened out, it was 192 miles in length. It 
was thrown round his body in a thousand folds, and a 
crown of sparkling gems was placed upon his head ; 



68 EDWIJSr ARNOLD, 

*' tlie irmsicians were animated to play upon their instrn- 

'^ ments in the most perfect time ; and the attendant 
^' brahmans channted the song of victory ; after which 
'^ the prince ascended his chariot, that he miglit return 
^' to the palace." 

The perfectly serene absurdity of exaggeration that 
characterizes the foregoing extract from the translated 
text of the Buddhist legends, will give readers but a 
very inadequate idea of the sense of utter release, not 
only from obligation to be true, but even from obligation 
to be probable, that pervades the whole portentous mass 
of these Eastern myths. There is in what precedes a 
certain repose of hyperbole that produces an almost 
poetic effect. For my own part, I like the original itself 
better than I like Mr. Arnold\s version of the original. 
I find more simplicity, more self-consistency, more of 
the quietness of power, in the antique than in the modern. 

Perhaps my readers would be glad of the opportunity 
to judge, in one instance more, what addition of beauty 
Mr. xirnold's skill of workmanship imparts to the mate- 
rial for the ''Light of Asia" already existing to the 
Enghsh poet's hand in tlie legendary literature of Buddh- 
ism. Mr. Arnold describes the phenomena that at- 
tended the earthly advent of Gautama Buddha, as fol- 
lows : 

" That niglit the xnie of King Suddhodana, 
Maya the queen, asleej) beside her lord, 

Dreamed a strange dream ; dreamed that a star from heaven — 
Splendid, six-rayed, in color rosy-pearl, 
Whereof the token was an elephant 
Six-tusked and whiter than Vahuka's milk — 
Shot through the void and, shining into her. 
Entered her womb ujion the right. Awaked, 
Bliss bevond mortal mother's filled her, breast. 



AS POETIZKR A2sD AS PAQANIZER. 69 

And over half the eartli a iovely light 

Forewent the morn. The strong hills shook ; the waves 

Sank lulled ; all flowers that blow by day came forth 

As 'twere high noon ; down to the farthest hells 

Passed the queen's joy, as when warm sunshine thrills 

Wood-glooms to gold, and into all the deeps 

A tender whisper pierced. ' Oh ye,' it said, 

* The dead that are to live, the live who die, 

Uprise, and hear, and hope ! Buddha is come ! ' 

Whereat in Limbos numbeiless much peace 

Spread, and the world's heart throbbed, and a wind blew 

With unknown freshness over lands and seas. 

And when the morning dawned, and this was told, 

The gray dream-readers said ' The dream is good I 

The Crab is in conjunction with the Sun ; 

The queen shall bear a boy, a holy child 

Of wondrous wisdom, profiting all flesh, 

Who shall deliver }nen from ignorance, 

Or rule the world, if he will deign to rule.' " 

From Bisliop Bigandet's ^' Life or Legend of Gau- 
tama, the Buddha of the Burmese," I take the follow- 



^^ A light of an incomparable brightness illuminated 
^ suddenly ten thousand Vv-orhis ; the blind, desirous, as 
^ it were, to contemplate the glorious dignity of Phra- 
^ laong, recovered their sight ; the deaf heard distinctly 
' every sound ; the dumb spoke v/ith fluency ; tiiose 
' whose bodies were bent stood up in an erect position ; 
' the lame walked with ease and swiftness ; prisoners 
' saw their fetters unloosed, and found themselves re- 
' stored to liberty, the hres of hell were extinguished ; 
' the ravenous cravings of the Pruthas were satiated ; 
' animals were exempt from all infirmities ; all rational 
' beings uttered but words of peace, and mutual benev- 
^ olence ; horses exhibited signs of an excessive joy ; 
* elephants, with a solemn and deep voice, expressed 



70 EDWr>r ARNOLD. 

" their contentment ; musical instrmnents resounded of 
" themselves with the most melodious harmony ; gold 
^^ and silver ornaments worn at the arms and feet, with- 
^' out coming in contact, emitted pleasiiig sounds ; all 
*' places became suddenly filled with a resplendent light ; 
*' refreshing breezes blev/ gently all over the earth ; 
^' abundant rain poured from the skies during the hot 
^* season, and springs of cool water burst out in every 
*' place, carrying through prepared beds their gently 
^'murmuring streams; birds of the air stood still, for- 
'' getting their usual flight; rivers suspended their 
^' course, seized with a mighty astonishment ; sea water 
*^ became fresh ; the live sorts of lilies were to be seen 
^' in every direction ; every description of flowers burst 
*^ open, displaying the richness of their brilliant colors ; 
^' from the branches of all trees, and the bosom of the 
^' hardest rocks, flowers shot forth, exhibiting all around 
'^ the most glowing, dazzling, and varied hues ; lilies, 
'^ seemingly rooted in the canopy of the skies, hung 
'* down, scattering their embalmed fragrance ; showers of 
*' flowers poured from the firmament on the surface of 
'' the earth ; the musical tunes of the Nats were heard 
"by the rejoiced inhabitants of our globe; hundred 
" thousands of worlds suddenly approached each other, 
" sometimes in the shape of an elegant nosegay, some- 
" times in that of a ])all of flowers, or of a spheroid ; the 
" choicest essences embalmed the whole atmosphere that 
'^ encompasses this world. Such are the wonders that 
'^ took place at the time Phralaong entered his mother's 
"womb." 

Whichever shall be thought finer, Mr. Arnold or his 
Indian original, Buddhist legends, it certainly will be 
agreed, do better for poetry than they do for religion. 



IV, 



We laughed at Mr. Arnold in the immediately fore- 
going part of this essay, through a number of successive 
pages. There is ^'inextinguishable laughter," the mat- 
ter of it, still left treasured up in the poem. But I may 
already have made a mistake. Readers will perhaps 
think that I have been indulging an improper levit3\ I, 
for my part, candidly think that my levity is just -pve- 
cisely proper. The '^ Light of Asia," considered ashter- 
ature, is not worthy of graver treatment. As regards 
Mr. Arnold himself, I cannot therefore accuse myself of 
indecorum. It is easier, however, to transgress the 
bounds of becoming respect toward Mr. Arnold's ad- 
mirers, especially those of them who have committed 
theiuselves to expressions of praise in print. I accord- 
ingly check myself. I stop laughing and become as 
honestly serious as under the circumstances I can. Here, 
for instance, is the Conteinjjorary Review furm'shing me 
reason for gravity. It says this of Mr. Arnold : 

*' That a gentleman so preoccupied should find time to 
write an epic poem on one of the most difficult themes 
that ever exercised poetic ingenuity, is surprising 
enough. Even more strange, however, is the fact that 
he quite succeeds in escaping what we are perhaps justi- 
iied in calling the taint of his occupation. . . . There 
is between the literature of every morning and the 
literature of Mr. Arnold's fine poem a whole world of 
Fcparation." 



/3 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

How accurately wrong the complaisance of this writer 
tempts him to he ! Complaisance it is that here exhibits 
itself ]-ather than defect of critical insight — so I judge 
hy the tone of tlie whole appreciation. 

But now that 1 have shown my readers tliis specimen 
of what has been said on the side opposite to mj own 
regarding Mr. Arnold's poetry, I may as well go on and 
show them several specimens more. To do so will 
serve two useful purposes. It will be fair toward Mr. 
Arnold ; and it will at tlie same time prove that exist- 
ing at least in the current state of critical opinion on the 
subject, if not in the intrinsic quality of the poetry 
criticised, tliere was reason enough for the publication 
of an essay like the present. 

Almost while I am writing this sentence, I chance 
upon a paragraph of literary news to the effect that 
in India two versions of the '' Light of Asia" are 
promised, one, I believe, in Bengalee, (but perhaj^s 1 am 
wrongj) and the other in Sanscrit. In our own 
favored land, a '^birthday book'' is announced, to 
be made up of choice extracts from Mr. Arnold's verse. 
In England, there is preparing, so it is said, for hix- 
urious admirers and buyers of the "Light of Asia," 
a sumptuous illustrated edition of that lucky work. 
In view of indications sucli as these, and such as are here 
still further to be displayed, of the present popular ac- 
ceptance of Mr. Arnohrs poem, some readers may in- 
deed tax me with temerity in doing what I now do, but 
none surely will say that 1 waste breath in cudgelling a 
man of straw. I subjoin a few additional specimens of 
notable critical expression contrary to my own concern- 
ing the literary merit of a production which, formidably 
praised as it n^ay appear to be, I nevertheless pluck up 
courage to speak of freely with clieerful disrespect. 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAXIZKR. i3 

In the International Remew for October, 1879, no 
less weighty an authority than OHver "Wendell Holmes 
has a leading article of imposing length lauding the 
*^ Light of Asia" in terms of which the following sample 
sentences will afford but a very moderate idea : 

^^ It is a work of great beauty. It tells a story of in- 
tense interest which never flags for a moment ; its de- 
scri])tions are drawn by the hand of a master, with the 
eye of a poet and the familiarity of an expert with 
the objects described ; its tone is so lofty that there is 
nothing with which to compare it but the ]^ew Testa- 
ment ; it is full of variety, now picturesque, now 
pathetic, now rising into the noblest realms of thought 
and aspiration, it finds language penetrating, fluent, 
elevated, impassioned, musical always, to clothe its varied 
thoughts and sentiments." 

Dr. Holmes further speaks of the poem as a '' noble 
epic added to English literature." He refers to the 
rapidity with which this '' most finished performance" 
was produced. He staggers you by saying, with the 
happiest antithesis to truth : 

'' To lay down this poem and take up a book of pop- 
ular rhymes is like stepping from the carpet of a Per- 
sian palace upon the small tradesman's Kidderminster." 

With apparently unintentional frankness, Dr. Holmes, 
however, furnishes us the necessary co-efticient of dis- 
count to be applied to liis praises. He tells us that Mr. 
William Henry Channing sent him a copy of the book 
with a letter commending it highly, and adds that Mr. 
Channing was his classmate at college. He does not add, 
what 1 learn to be true, that Mr. William Henry Chan- 



74 EDWIJ^ ARl^OLD. 

ning is fatlier-in-lavv to Mr. Arnold. The generous 
spirit of comradeship toward a fellow-student, we may 
imagine to have bribed the insight of Dr. Holmes to be 
willingly a little blind in judging a literary work to 
which that fellow-student had naturally so vital a rela- 
tion. 

The New Englander for March, 1880, says of the 
'' Light of Asia" : 

*' It will not be strange if the book takes hold of the 
present and of a long future, by a creative power of 
thought, which Is the imagination of the inspired poets." 

As respectfully, in the face of these and like contrary 
expressions, as I can, I say again that the '^ Light of 
Asia" is, for its literary merits, not worthy of being 
criticised othervvise than mirthfully. With perfectly 
light-hearted confidence, 1 dismiss Mr. Arnold's poetry 
to that limbo of things *' transitory and vain" to which, 
by its own irrepressible inherent levitation it seems to me 
manifestly to aspire. 



SECOND F^RT. 



I. 



In a mood somewhat different from that which prop- 
erly, as I maintain, has controlled the preceding pages, 
1 go on from considering the literary, to consider points 
no longer literary, in Mr. Arnold's "Light of Asia.". 
In short, 1 invite my readers to pass from examining the 
poem as literatnre to examining it as representation of 
fact — fact in biography and fact in doctrinal exposition. 
AVho knows but it may turn out that the *' Light of 
Asia" makes up in truth what it lacks in poetry ? 

Before making the proposed transition, however, it 
will be well — it perhaps is needful — to point out that the 
assays herein presented of Mr. Arnold's literary quality, 
although they have been presented with a degree of 
lightness in manner, have yet been presented with entire 
candor in spirit. 1 have done Mr. Arnold no wrong. 
He is wliat he is here represented to be. The things 
that I have oiiered in specimen, are fairly so offered. I 
leave behind, untouched, store of things in the poem as 
egregious as the most of those which I have brought 
forward to view. 

1 should not have treated Mr. Arnold's poetry in criti- 
cism at all, if his poetry had been simply rather bad, 
and had been generally thought to be simply rather good. 
It is because Mr. Arnold's poetry has been thought very 
good, being in fact very bad, that I have been led to pay 
it the present attention. I should have liked to praise 
it more, while I blamed it, for that course would have 



78 EDWIiq- AKNOLD, 

seemed more candid. But it would really have been 
less candid, for I believe in nij heart that I have praised 
it as mucli as it deserves. 

A friend asks me. Could you not glean out of any 
poet's work, out of Tennyson's, for instance, faults 
equally capable of being set up for laughing-stocks to the 
public ? No, I promptly reply, 1 could not. Tennyson 
is a true poet. Slips he makes now and then, but he is 
not spurious through and through, like this writer. It is 
no mere trial of wit, the present criticism, to make a 
poet ridiculous. 1 do not make Mr. Arnold ridiculous. 
Mr. Arnold makes himself ridiculous. I simply give 
him a chance to show himself such as he is, — to a little 
better advantage. Let every reader fully understand, I 
have meant to be, and 1 have been, as just and candid in 
spirit, as I may have been jaunty and rallying in man- 
ner. I would not for the world make unfair game of 
any man. I believe in considerate and careful justice. 
I should be ashamed of myself to attempt presenting in 
a ludicrous light that which is not in itself suitable sub- 
ject of laughter. The true way to treat the '^ Light of 
Asia" is to laugh at it. That is, when you treat it on 
the ground of literary merit alone. On that ground, the 
'' Light of Asia'' is, for the most part, just a broad joke 
from beginning to end. Regarding it as literature you 
may simply grin at it, and do so with ])erfect com- 
placency of conscience. You are doing quite the right 
thing — unless once in a while it may be your duty to 
press your two hands firmly against your two '^ ridges of 
ribs" and, so fortified, dehver yourself to unrestrained 
explosions of laughter. 

I say, regarding it as literature, you may behave 
yourself thus. But regarding it as a setting forth of 
Buddhist history and BiiddhlBt doctrine, you are bound 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAXTZER. 79 

to beliave yourself differently. You must now be serious 
indeed. I bring against the " Light of Asia" the 
general accusation that, whether with intention or not, 
on the part of the author, it represents Buddhism un- 
truly. I do not mean merely that it idealizes Buddhism. 
This a poet might fairly be entitled to do. But the 
" Light of Asia" does more than idealise Buddhism — 
inore, and other. It would be according to the privilege 
of a poet to take, for instance, Buddhism, and present it 
better than it is — If this be done, in a certain way, and in 
obedience to a certain law. Yon must idealize along 
the line ■^resoribed by the actual nature of the system. 
The system must not change its essential character. It 
must remain itself, though it may become itself purged 
of defect and heightened in merit. But what I charge 
is, that Mr. Arnold has not been loyal to this obvious 
law of just idealization. He has transgressed the lavv. 
lie has consciously or unconsciously ])ractised sleight of 
hand, and given lis a supposititious something, that is not 
Buddhism at all, either as actually existing, or as ideal- 
ized from itself. In short, he has been untrue to the 
central truth of things. 

I repeat, I do not say purposely untrue. I have no 
right to say that. I will not pretend to explore Mr. 
Arnold's ultimate motives. I take what is indisput- 
able. I take the '' Light of Asia" as it is. I raise no 
question how it became such. That is a matter of much 
concern indeed to Mr. Arnold himself, whether or not 
to anybody besides him very momentous, but, in either 
case, quite beyond the province of a fellow-man to deter- 
mine. To the common Judge of all of us — his own Mas- 
ter and ours alike, confessed such by us or not — he shall 
for me be left to stand or fall. With Mr. Arnold's 
motive in his work, then, let us have nothing whatever 



80 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

to do, but coiiliiie ourselves strictly aud ouly to the work 
itself as we fiud it. 

Buddhism may be regarded as, in Mr. Arnold's repre- 
sentation, made up of two factors — Buddha the man, and 
Buddha's teaching. Of these two factors, the personal 
one — the man Buddha — is far the more important. It 
signifies far less what Buddha taught, than what Buddha 
was. If Buddha was such as Mr. Arnold represents him 
to have been, or rather — for we must make the distinc- 
tion — such as Mr. Arnold evidently meant to represent 
him to be, then what Buddha taught demands attention 
from us. Otherwise, hardly — except such languid atten- 
tion as we give to matters of mere speculation and his- 
tory having no possible practical relation to any of our 
interests. Was Buddha what Mr. Arnold would have 
lis understand him to have been ? 

Mr. Arnold would have us understand that Buddha 
v/as born a great prince (we need not press the prodigies 
that attended the prince's birth — these, even in the 
poem, do not have the air of sober history, being herein 
sharply differenced from the T^ew Testament story of the 
birth of Jesus), that he lived in purity a life of luxurious 
ease, loving his wife with a love like the puriiied love of 
a Christian husband, that, against special temptation, 
felt at the inoment, to continue this course of selfish 
enjoyment, he, on a memorable occasion, 2)erformed a 
great act of renunciation, giving up everything that was 
dear to him, in order, by a long series of incredible 
self-denials and hardships, to become Buddh, and so 
save the world. Such is the representation. Now, what 
are the facts ? Well, the facts assuredly are by no 
means easy to ascertain. We might fairly content our- 
selves with alleging against Mr. Arnold that he makes 
the impression of having a right to march firmly, where 



AS POETIZER AKD AS PAGAXIZEIi. 81 

in fact the ground he treads trembles, at every step, 
under his feet. 

On the question, for instance, of the historical reality 
of Buddha — the question, that is to say, Avhether such a 
person as Buddha ever in fact existed — the highest 
authorities in matters of Indian learning, are hopelessly 
divided. It k, in its nature, a question as to which, 
at least in any Occidental breast, no wish that should bias 
the judgment either on the one side or on the other, 
need arise. An historical personage, or an ideal con- 
ception, merely, of the human mind, Buddha, with 
his legend wild or sober, with his teaching bad or good, 
is in the world, the product, the authentic product, 
equally in either case, of Indian civilization. If Buddha 
once really lived, why India is to be credited with him ; 
if he never really lived, but was only imagined, he was 
certainly imagined by India, and still India is to be 
credited with him. There is therefore nothing to create 
a prejudice in the "Western mind either for or against the 
historical reality of Buddha. We might approach the 
problem to solve it, were it our ambition to solve it, 
without prejudice to warp us either this way or that. 

Mr. H. Spence Hardy, acknowledged to be an au- 
thority in Indian learning not second to any, expresses 
himself as follows upon the point of Buddha's actual 
existence ; I quote from his '' Legends and Theories of 
the Buddhists," p. 187 : 

^' In the preceding pages, I have spoken of Buddha as 
a real personage ; I have attributed to an individual 
words and acts, and have regarded the words and acts 
recorded in the Bitakas as said and done by that in- 
dividual ; but in this I have used the language of the 
Buddhist, and not that of my own conviction or belief. 1 



S'i KDWIX AKNOI-n, 

will not say tliat 1 think no such person as Sakya Singlui 
ever existed ; but I affirm tliat we cannot know anything 
about him with certainty ; and tliat, as it is not possible 
to separate the myth from the truth, we cannot rely im- 
plicitly on any one statement that is made in relation to 
him, either in the Text or Commentary. There is 
doubt as to his birthplace, his race, and the age in 
which he lived ; and in a still greater degree, about 
almost every other event connected with his history. 
There are a few things said about him that we might be- 
lieve, because they are such as are conmion to man ; but 
even upon these we cannot look without suspicion from 
the overcrowding of the page that records them with the 
most glaring untruths ; and whether Gotama, prince and 
philosopher, ever existed or not, we are quite certain that 
the Gotanui Buddha of the Fitakas is an imaginary 
being, and never did exist." 

Mr. Hai:dy, in the foregoing extract, presents on the 
subject of Buddha's historical reality the view to which 
on the whole enlightened critical opinion now inclines. 
But this is a fashion merely, which the next age may see 
fit to change. ]No fault is to be found with Mr. Arnold 
for building his poem upon the hypothesis that Buddha 
was an historical person. But fault may justly be found 
with liim if he makes out his hero to be an historical 
person with a history essentially dilferent from that 
which the native legends attribute to Baddha. And this 
I find that Mr. Arnold does. His offence is therefore 
lieavier than the offence of going beyond his evidence. 
It is not simply beyond his evidence, it is against his 
evidence, that he goes. He ostensibly gives us Buddha, 
as a Buddhist votary conceives him. "What if he departs, 
in important points, from the general consent of Buddh- 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZKR. 83 

ist legends ? Will not liis work he in so far essentially 
false ? 

For example, and the example is capital in importance, 
Mr. Arnold applies every resource of his rhetoric in 
descrihing the tenderness of the relation represented by 
him to subsist between Gautama and his wife. lie 
even, in sucli description, pennits himself a license of 
sensuousness that is saved to you from the grossness of 
sensuality, only as you make a huge allowance to the 
writer on the score of his dejJing with an Oriental 
theme. Again and again, v/liile you read, you are 
forced to use your very strongest timely recollection of 
extraordinary privilege belonging to the poet, in order 
to choke down an almost irrepressibly rising nausea and 
qualm of instinctive disgust, both at the ideas expressed, 
and at the language employed to express the ideas. 
Still, you feel all the time that the intention of Mr. 
Arnold, however ill achieved, is to portray to readers a 
conjugal relation between Gautama and his wife wholly 
sweet and pure, like the conjugal relation conceived by 
Paul in sucli a way as to be deemed by him v/orthy to 
stand for figure of the nuptial bond between Christ 
and His Church. Gautama is, according to Mr. Ar- 
nold himself, furnished with a countless harem of 
beautiful women, among whom he deh'ghts himself 
at will, and yet he is presented to us as loving his 
wife and queen witli the kind of elevated and exclusive 
affection that, under such conditions, we all know is, 
in the very nature of things, impossible. No man 
with ten thousand concubines, more or less— forty thou- 
sand is the legendary number — ever loved any one 
woman, as Mr. Arnold would lead us to believe Gautama 
loved his queen. (Or is the '^ very much" married 
Turkish Sultan sadly misunderstood among us in this 



fi4 KDWIX AKKOLD, 

part of the world ? And the patriarcli of Mormondom ?) 
JMo, tlio affection between Gautama and Yasodhara is all 
the fii^nient of the English poet's fancy. This the poet 
himself amply supplies us with reason for believing. 
Tlie conditions of life iu which he places the prince, 
preclude all possibility of such love between the prince 
and his wife as, through page after page of the poem, he 
elaborately, with futile elaboration, ])ortrays. It is 
another case of utterly inharmonious, impossible concep- 
tion on the part of Mr. Arnold. He has ineffectually 
attempted to force together two ideas that refuse to be 
wedded in thought — namely, pare conjugal love and a 
countless concubinage. 

So much might, from within the poem itself, legiti- 
mately be inferred to confute the representation of the 
poem. But we may go outside the poem to the 
sources from which the materials of the poem were 
drawn. Now who, that has got his ideas on the subject 
exclusively from the " Light of Asia," would guess that 
in all the legends of Gautama which Mr. Spence Hardy 
copiously translates from the Singhalese version of the 
original text, there is absolutely no hint or trace of 
that singular absorbing love between Gautama and his 
wife, made by Mr. Arnold to be such a salient feature 
in his work ? The very word '' love" is conspicuously rare 
on all Mr. Hardy's pages, and the thing love is no more 
familiar than the word. Barely once, 1 find mentioned 
the idea of kindred love on the part of Gautama. In 
that single case, the love spoken of is not for his wife, but 
for his infant son. On p. 159 of Mr. Hardy's book, it is 
told how at the birth of Gautama's son the father inti- 
mated that now " something proper for him to love was 
born." This, I repeat, is actually the sole mention of 
kindred " love" in Gautama, on which I light in all the 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAXIZER. 85 

pages of Mr. Arnold's authority. As to Gautama's regard 
for his wife, represented b}^ Mr. Arnold to have played 
so striking a part in Gautama's great renunciation, tlio 
only, quite the only, even indirect, hint in the original 
documents of this is contained in the statement that, 
v/hen Gautama, on the eve of forsaking his queen, 
visited her chamber, (what for ? to have a ])leasant word 
with her, or at least a farewell look at her ? not at all ; 
" in order that he might see his son''^) he refrained from 
taking up his boy lest the mother should wake and speak 
to him, " which might shake his resolution." 
Mr. Arnold : 

" I lay aside my jouth, 
My throne, my joys, my golden days, my nights, 
My happy palace— and thine arms, sweet queen ! 
Harder to jDut aside than all the rest ! 
******* 

So Avitli his brow he touched her feet, and bent 
The farewell of fond eyes, unutterable. 
Upon her sleeping face, still wet with tears ; 
And thrice around the bed in reverence, 
As though it were an altar, softly stepped, 
V/ith clasped hands laid upon his beating heart, 
* For never,' spake he, ' lie I there again ! ' 
And thrico he made to go, but thrice camo back, 
So strong her beauty was, so large his love." 

Thus Mr. Arnold. 

Kow the legend : 

"He thought, '1 can see my child after 1 become 
" Budha ; were I, from parental affection, to endanger 
" the reception of the Budhaship, how could the various 
" orders of being be released from the sorrows of ex- 
'' istence ? ' "— Hardy's '^Manual of P.udhism," p. 1G2. 

I have tiOmewliat carefully scanned Mr. Hardy's pages, 



S() EOWIX ARNOLD. 

and 1 have tried hero to give all the foundation supplied 
to Mr. Arnokl in the original legend^ for the pretentious 
rhetorical fabric that he rears to thio glorilication of 
Ciautauia's love as a liusband. Cim anv one fail to see 
that Mr. Arnold's poem is, in tliis particular at any rate, 
not properly idealization of Buddhism, but, instead, utter 
falsiiieation of Buddliisni i Buddhism, whether sought 
in Buddha's life, or in Buddha's doctrine, knows nothiuir 
of love on the part of a liusband like that which Mr. 
Arnold fuL^omelv attributes to Buddha as by him enter- 
tained for his wife. Such love is not at homo in the 
Buddhist system. It is out of place there. It is an in- 
trusion. It is forced and foisted in from elsewhere. To 
make more plain the immensity of this falsification, 1 
have had count taken of tlie recurrences of the word 
'• love" in Mr. Arnold's poem. On an average, that 
single M'ord, apart from intlected forms of it, occurs 
about once in every forty lines throughout the '" Light 
of Asia.-' Indeed, the whole poem is fairly love-sick. 
And the original legends do not once even mention the 
idea of proper conjugal love ! Is not the perversion 
monstrous, incredible '^ 

Althougli Mr. Arnold does indeed describe the volup- 
tuous life of (lautama with his innumerable concubines, 
he still describes it in a way t(^ slur over the grossness and 
sensuality inextricably implied. You are led almost to 
forget but that the blameless prince is living among these 
lovely women, innocently, like a child among so many 
dolls. The horrid animalism of such a life is smothered 
witli rhetoric, like a festering corpse covered over with 
flowers. By the hand of sober history, the glozing veil 
is withdrawn. I cpiote from the " History of India," 
by J. Talboys Wheeler, a work which cannot be sus- 
pected of Christian jealousy as toward Buddliism, which 



AS P<> ETI Z K It A N' D A S l> A G A \ I Z K li. 8'7 

in truth treats Bnddliism witli sympathy. Mr. Wlioelcr, 
p. 100, says : "It may be inferred that at this period of 
his life [early manhood after marriage] he [Gautama] 
plunged into every kind of pleasure, until at last he was 
oppressed with satiety and his old melancholy began to 
return." 

Mr. Wheeler subjoins a significant note : 

*' The sensuality indicated in the text is almost in- 
credible. It is, however, quite in accordance with 
Kshatriya usages. A custom somewhat similar has 
always prevailed among the Kshatriya sovereigns of 
Burma, varying of course with the character and tem- 
perament of the reigning king. Bhodan-pra, who 
reigned a.d. 1781-1819 over the whole Burman empire, 
from the Bay of Bengal to the Chinese frontier, was un- 
bounded in his zenana indulgences. Every governor and 
feudatory was expected to send his fairest daughter or 
sister to serve in the palace as an attendant, or Royal 
Virgin. If any such damsel obtained the favor of the 
king, she was elevated to the position of an inferior 
queen, and provided with a separate apartment and slaves 
for her own use. ' ' 

The fact, then, probably was that this prince, repjre- 
sented by Mr. Arnold to have been blameless from his 
birth, was already in early youth an exhausted voluptu- 
ary. He ''felt the fulness of satiety." When he be- 
came an ascetic, the renunciation was with him a reaction 
of disgust. He went from pleasures of which he had 
tired, and not from pleasures that he was still freslily 
capable of enjoying. Mr. Arnold's overcharged sensuous 
account of the prince's visit, at the crisis of his purposed 
renunciation, to his house of licentious pleasure, and of 
his finding there that population of sleeping queens, id 



88 I^DWIN ARNOLD, 

full displiiy, to the .young priucely pro].">riotor, of every 
charm that could appeal to the animal appetite of man — 
this, regarded in the light of mere description, is not 
simply a piece of bad morals and bad taste on the part 
of the poet ; beyond that, it is sheer falsiiication of his- 
tory. Mr. Arnold makes it for himself an evident trial 
of strength and skill to portray those fair young creatures 
of Gautama's lust, as sleeping in the unconscious beauty 
and charm of paradisaical innocence and love. All that 
temptation Gautama was to resist in achieving his self- 
sacrilice. Xow, the legend says expressly the contrary of 
this. 1 cite presently the text of the legend. But first 
Mr. Arnold himself : 

" Within— 
Where tho mooQ glittered throiigh the lace-worked stone, 
Lighting the walls of pearl-shell and the floors 
Paved with veined marble— soitly fell her beams 
On such rare company of Indian girls, 
It seemed some chamber sweet in Paradise 
Where Devis rested. All the chosen ones 
Of Prince Siddavtha's pleasure-homo were there, 
The brightest and most faithful of the court, 
Each form so lovel}" in tho j^eace of sleep, 
That 3'ou had said, ' This is the jDearl of all ! ' 
Save that beside her or beyond her lay 
Fairer and fairer, till the pleasured gaze 
Roamed o'er that feast of beauty as it roams 
From gem to gem in some great goldsmith-work, 
Caught by each color till the next is seen. 
With careless grace they lay, their soft brown limbs 
Part hidden, part revealed ; their glossy hair 
Bound back with gold or flowers, or flowing loose 
In black waves down the shapely nape and neck. 
Lulled into pleasant dreams by happy toils. 
They slept no wearier than jewelled birds 
Which sing and love all day, then under wing 
Fold head till morn bids sing and love again. 
Lamps of chased silver swinging from the roof 
In silver chains, and fed with perfumed oils. 



A3 rOETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 89 

Made witli the moonbeam's tender lights and shades, 

Whereby were seen the perfect lines of grace, 

The bosom's placid heave, the soft stained palms 

Drooping or clasped, the faces fair and dark, 

The great arched brov/s, the parted lips, the teeth 

Like pearls a merchant picks to make a string, 

The satin-lidded eyes, with lashes dropped 

Sweeping the delicate cheeks, the rounded wrists, 

The smooth small feet with bells and bangles decked, 

Tinkling low music where some sleeper moved, 

Breaking her smiling dream of some new dance 

Praised by the prince, some magic ring to find, 

Some fairy love-gift. Here one lay full-length, 

Her vina by her cheek, and in its strings 

The little fingers still all interlaced — 

As when the last notes of her light song played 

Those radiant eyes to sleep and sealed her own. 

Another slumbered folding in her arms 

A desert antelope, its slender head 

Buried with back-sloped horns between her breasts 

Soft nestling ; it was eating — when both drowsed — 

Eed roses, and her loosening hand still held 

A rose half-mumbled, while a rose-leaf curled 

Between the deer's lips. Here two friends had dozed 

Together, weaving mogra-buds, which bound 

Their sister sweetness in a starrj' chain, 

Linking them limb to limb and heart to heart, 

One pillowed on the blossoms, one on her. 

Another, ere she slept, was stringing stones 

To make a necklet — agate, onyx, sard, 

Coral, and moonstone— round her wrist it gleamed 

A coil of splendid color, while she held, 

Unthreaded yet, the bead to close it up 

Green turkis, cars'ed with golden gods and scripts. 

Lulled by the cadence of the garden stream. 

Thus lay they on the clustered carj)ets, each 

A girlish rose with shut leaves, waiting dawn 

To open and make daylight beautiful. 

This v/as the ante-chamber of the prince ; 

But at the purdah's fringe the sweetest slept — 

Gunga and Gotami — chief ministers 

In that still house of love." 



90 EDWIN AR'N'OLD, 

Against this, the original legend, " Manual of Budh- 
isni," p. 160 : 

'' On reaching tiie palace, Sidhartta reclined npon a 
' splendid conch, the lamps were filled w^ith perfumed 
' oil, and lighted, and around him were assembled his 
' 40,000 queens. Some danced before him, whilst others 
' played upon flutes, harps, and cymbals, and instru- 
* ments made of the legs of fowls or of animals ; whilst 
^ others again beat the drum, performed various evolu- 
' lions, and tried in many ways to attract his attention ; 
' bnt the prince paid no regard to tliem, and fell asleep. 
' The choristers and musicians, seeing that their attempts 
"' to amuse him were of no avail, placed their instruments 
^ under their heads as pillows ; and they too fell asleep. 
' When Sidhdrtta awoke, he saw the altered appearance 
' of the revellers ; some were yawning, the dress of 
' others was in great confusion, whilst others again were 
^ gnashing their teeth, or crying out in their sleep, or 
' foaming at the mouth, or restlessly rolling their 
' bodies and placing themselves in unseemly postures ; 
' so that the place which a little time previous appeared 
' like one of the dewa-lokas, now seemed like acharnel- 
' house. Dis2:usted with what he saw, and roused to 
' activity, like a man who is told that his house is on 
' fire, he rose up from his couch, and resolved to enter 
^ at once upon the discipline it was necessary for him 
' to pass through before he could become Budha." 

1 have no disposition. to disparage the merit of Gau- 
tama. But Gautama was not at all the man that Mr. 
Arnold describes him. He was essentially other. Mr. 
Arnold clothes Gautama with attriluites that the char- 
acter of Gautama, such as, according to the legends, that 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 91 

character really was, could never have suggested to the 
mind. Mr. Arnold, borrowing from Christianity, gives 
to Buddhism, not so much what idealizes Buddhism, as 
what makes Buddhism something other than itself. 

1 must, and 1 will, resist every temptation to charge 
Mr. Arnold with bad faitli. 1 shall, therefore, not say 
that Mr. Arnold with deliberate purpose takes Biblical 
phrases consecrated to the Christian imagination and to 
the Christian heart by association with Jesus, and 
transfers these in application to Gautama, in order to 
cheat the surprised and bewildered mind into the only 
lialf-conscious suspicion that, after all, Jesus was but one 
in a class, larger or smaller, in which Gautama was 
another and a peer. This I must jiot say, and I will not. 
But 1 may say, and 1 will, that if Mr. Arnold had had 
such a sinister purpose, unconfessed, he could not have 
chosen a way better adapted than his actual to accom- 
plish it. The unwary and too-trustful reader is even led 
to suppose that perhaps the scriptures of Buddhism 
themselves furnish pregnant and pathetic expressions, 
parallel to those which Mr. Arnold, proudly making 
prize of them from the Bible, hands over to Buddha. 
The solemn saying of Simeon to Mary, *' A sword shall 
pierce through thine own soul also," is seized by our 
author, and, suffering a cliange in his hands proper to his 
taste and his genius, is given to the mother of Gautama : 
'' A sword must pierce thy Jjovjels for this boy." The 
awful, '^ It is finished," of Calvary is similarly changed 
and similarly transferred — ^' It is finished, finished" — 
the transference here being to certain Devas who speak 
of Buddha's final victory. 

Tlie idea of vicariousness is deep-laid in the very con- 
fititiition of human nature. The idea cannot, therefore, 
be said to have been surreptitiously Ijrought from the 



92 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

Bible for association witli BudcUia. Still, Mr. Arnold's 
representation of this idea in connection with Buddha is 
such as it could never have been, had it proceeded from 
the hand of any man not bred in the atmosphere and light 
of a Christian civilization. But the contrast is, to the 
thoughtful mind, far deeper than the resemblance. Gau- 
tama, according to the legends, had to toil and suffer in 
asceticism in order to redeem his own soul. He was him- 
self a sinful man — this, although Mr. Arnold, drawn per- 
liaps beyond his wish or thought, by the analogy of the 
character of Jesus, fails to make Gautama's sinfulness ap- 
pear as it should — Gautama was himself a sinful man, 
and he had his own redemption to work out before lie 
could be redeemer to others. And at last, his office of 
redeemer to others consisted simply in teaching them 
a moral code, and in setting them a good example. 
The toil and the suffering were not related to his re- 
deeming work as means to end. Proper vicariousness, 
therefore, there was none in Gautama's character or life. 
The contrast here between Gautama and Jesus is im- 
mense. But the unheeding reader is likely not to feel 
the contrast, in going through Mr. Arnold's representa- 
tion of the case. 

The present examination is but temporarily important 
during a temporary injurious inHuence exerted by this 
absurdly overrated book. 1 do not seek to be exhaustive. 
It may briefly be said that the '* Light of Asia" is a very 
untrustworthy authorit}" in Buddhist history and exposi- 
tion. Probably the great distinctive doctrine of '' Nir- 
vana" itself is misapprehended by Mr. Arnold. So accom- 
plished and £0 profoundly sagacious an Oj'ientalist as Dr. 
Judson, a man whose business it had been for forty years 
to understand Buddhism that he might help replace it 
with Christianity, pronounced it maturely and finally his 



AS POETJZER AKD AS i>A(i ANIZKR. 9-J 

judgment that '' ISiirvana" is nothing more nor iuss tlitm 
a euphemism for annihilation. The urbane and polished 
Orientals would not say of Buddli that he was dead, or 
that he did not exist; he "reposed," they ^vould 
pregnantly say. Blank annihilation, boldly self-con- 
fessed in frank terms, vvould not be an attractive prospect 
wherewith to commend Buddha to people hereabout. 
Mr. Arnold chooses the unintelligible alternative interpre- 
tation — that of an existence without passion of sorrov/ or 
of joy, unconscious, changeless, inert, a transcendental 
state not distinguishable, save in the name you give it, 
from absolute non-existence. The true antithesis to ex- 
istence is non-existence, and non-existence, pure annihi- 
lation, beyond doubt, the Buddhist Xirvana is. Such, 
forsooth, the " universal hope" that Buddhism becomes 
" eternal" by oifering to fulfil ! 

1 express myself thus positively on the real meaning of 
iSTirvana in Buddhism, not because 1 find the weight of 
authority, though I do, to be on the side I take, but 
because the translated text of the Buddhist literature, as 
given by Mr. Hardy, leaves the point, in my judgment, 
beyond question. I however add one more specialist's 
opinion on the subject, to satisfy the curiosity of read- 
ers. Mr. Monier Williams, a moderate and judicious 
writer, amply qualified to speak, uses, in his ." Modern 
India and the Indians," p. 255, the following language : 

Buddha '^ was a great reformer of Hinduism ; but it 
is a mistake to suppose that he aimed at an entire aboli- 
tion of Brahnianism, with the philosophical side of which 
his system had really much in common. His mission was 
to abolish caste, to resist sacerdotal tyranny, to preach 
universal charity and love, and to enjoin self -mortifica- 
tion and self-suppression through perhaps millions of 



r4 EDWIN AKXOLD^ 

existences, as tlie only means of getting rid of the evils 
of life and self -consciousness by an extinction of all 
being. He was himself the model of a perfect ascetic. 
He never claimed to be a god, but only the ideal of that 
perfection of knowledge and self -subjugation to which 
every man might attain. 

^' The Buddha had himself passed through millions of 
births, and was about to become extinct ; but before his 
own attainment of Nirvana, or annihilation, he was en- 
abled by perfect knowledge of the truth, to reveal to the 
world the method of obtaining it. He died, and exists 
no more. He carmot, therefore, be worshipped. His 
memory only is revered. Temples are erected over his rel- 
ics, such as a hair or a tooth. The Dathavansa, a history 
of one of his teeth, has recently been translated from the 
Pali. In the same manner every man must pass through 
innumerable existences, rising or falling in the scale, ac- 
cording to his conduct, until he also attains Nirvana, and 
becomes extinct. The Buddha once pointed to a broom 
in a corner, which he said had, in a former birth, been a 
novice who had neglected to be diligent in sweeping out 
the Assembly Hall. 

'^ In Buddhism, then, there can be no God ; and if 
no God, then no prayer, no clergy, no priests. By ' no 
God ' I mean no real God. Yet action is a kind of God. 
Action is omnipotent. Action is all-powerful in its ef- 
fects on future states of being. ' An evil act follows a 
man through a hundred thousand transmigrations, so 
does a good act.' By ' no prayer ' I mean no real prayer. 
Yet there are two forms of words (meaning, when trans- 
lated, 'reverence to the jewel in the lotus,' 'honor to the 
incomparable Buddha') which repeated or turned in a 
wheel either once or millions of times, must produce in- 
evitable corresponding results in future existences by the 



AS POETIZER AXD AS PAGANIZER. 95 

more mechanical law of cause and effect. By * no clergy,' 
I mean no real clergy. Yet there are monks and ascetics 
by thousands and thousands, banded together in mon- 
asteries, for the better suppression of passion and attain- 
ment of extinction. Many of these are religious teachers 
but not priests. 

"'Has Buddhism, then, no morality? Yes — a lofty 
system of universal charity and benevolence. Yet extinc- 
tion is its ultimate aim. In this respect it is no improve- 
ment upon Brahmanism. The more the depths of these 
two systems are explored, the more clearly do they exhibit 
themselves in their true light as little better tlian dreary 
schemes excogitated by visionary philosophers, in the vain 
liope of delivering themselves from the evils and troubles 
of hfe — from all activity, self -consciousness, and personal 
existence. ' ' 

Again, ibid., p. 260, Mr. Williams says : 

'' Fourthly and lastly. Buddhism. What are its means 
of accomplishing its end ? Extinction of being is effected 
by self-]nortification, by profound contemplation, and by 
abstinence from action. The Baddha himself is extinct. 
He cannot, therefore, of course be the source of eternal 
life. ISTor can indeed eternal life ever be desired by those 
whose highest aim is to be blown out like a candle." 



ri. 



Much is said nowadaje, in a large ^vaj, as if wisely and 
pliilosopliically, about tlie liiiderlTing' mutual resem- 
blances that make the different religions of the world 
essentially one in fundamental character. But surely, 
between a religion which, like Buddhism, thus presents 
extinction of beino- as the chief human tfood, and a relii2:ion 
which, like Christianity, presents as the chief human 
good a conscious and glorious immortality of blessedness, 
— surely, 1 say, between two such religions there might, 
at many inferior points, exist striking features of mutual 
resemblance, while still, with such and so violent oppo- 
sition dividing them the one from the other, it would 
be false and misleading to speak of them as connected 
by any bond that could properly be called ''sympathy." 
"What I take to be the truth about the "sympathy 
of religions'' so far as such sympathy may be supposed 
to hold between Buddhism and Christianity, is briefly 
this : Buddhism is partly true and Christianity is wholly 
true. Of course, then, wherein Buddhism is true, there 
may exist a ''sympathy- • (to alloAV the word — it seems to 
me a word not very lit to use) between it and Christian- 
ity ; which is much the same as saying that truth does not 
become falsehood by being adopted into Buddhism . (The 
effect of falsehood, however, truth so adopted comes very 
near indeed to producing.) \Yherein Buddhism is false, 
there is still, it may be admitted, at points a certain fal- 
lacious resemblance remainino- between it and Christian- 



EDWIX AllKOLD. i)7 

itj. Siicli remaining resemblance, however, is so far 
from being ^'sympathj," that it is antipathy, violent 
and extreme. 

But the resemblance, vv'hatever it be — how account for 
it ? Christianitj teaches the being and agency of a dev- 
ih The devil is tlie enemy of all good. The devil connter- 
"worlis Christianity in every way, with craft and power in- 
definitely great. Oiie of his ways, I should think, might 
be to create just the €2>ccious and dehisive resemblanc9 
that is in fact to be recognized as existing between Chris- 
tianity and any false religion, for instance. Buddhism. 
This conjecture is eonHrmed by the fact, for fact it is, that 
there is resemblance, computably sufficient, andcomputa- 
bly not m^ore than sufficient, betv/eeii Christianity and 
Buddhism, to be accounted for by the supposition that 
Buddhism is in part a Satanic travesty of Christianity. 

Of course I am very well aware that this is not a sug- 
gestion original with nn^self. I know that, on the con- 
trary, it is a very old idea. I kno\7 too that to many 
minds it seems simply obsolete and ridiculous. Wellj 1 
will not assum.e to dogmatize, or even to philosophize 
very deeply. 1 can only judge the devil by Vvdiat is taught 
of him in the Bible. There, I am sure, he is represented 
to be a compound of malicious cunning and malicious 
power. I am quite clear that if I were myself such a 
being as this, I should go about my object of defeating 
Jesus in His attempt to save the world, very much as the 
devil has in fact gone about that object, if we are at liberty 
to suppose that the devil has been largely the author of 
Buddhism.. My friends may laugh at me if they will, 
but in all seriousness I insist that if I can at all divine the 
devil by myself, nothing in the world is more likely than 
that this prince of lies has been very busy indeed in getting 
up Buddhism. Goethe, 1 believe, once said that he felt 



98 l:DWI^^ arxold, 

liiraself potentially capable of cominitting, under con- 
ceivable conditions of circumstance, any crime whatever of 
wliicli lie had ever heard. I grieve to confess that, in some 
such imaginative way, I discover in myself a considerable 
degree of instinct to understand the devil's probable 
method of working to deceive the world. In the most 
clairvoyant moods of this my hypothetical entrance into 
our arch-enemy- s plans of operation, I have never yet 
conceived anything else half so well adapted to succeed, 
on a colossal scale, in baffling the attempt of Christianity 
to save mankind, as the grand sclieme of preoccupying 
everywhere the ground with false religions speciously 
resembling the true. I by no means assert this to have 
been Satan's chosen j^lan. But I do assert that it would 
be exactly like him, and I assert moreover that this Vv'ould 
very neatly explain the problem that confronts us in our 
study of the so-called ^* world-religions." 

A Satanic travesty of true religion. Buddhism does in- 
deed, in some of its features, seem to me to be. This the- 
ory at any rate, as I have said, accounts in a highly sensi- 
ble way for the curious coincidences that undeniably exist 
between Buddhism and Christianity. As to the contrast 
between the two — if I could incorporate here copious 
exemplification of the grotesque, the extravagant, the 
dreary, the inane, figments that make up the substance 
and mass of the Buddhist books, as represented in 1h\ 
Hardy's scholarly translation, such exemplification alone 
would be sufficient to satisfy every enlightened and unprej- 
udiced mind concerning the enormous, the measureless, 
contrast that yawns between these tvro systems of religion. 
Buddhism Avould be seen in the comparison to have un- 
mistakably the character of burlesque and travesty. The 
sober, real, earnest quality of the Gospel histories, the 
moderation, in measure and in to?iey with which the mirac- 



AS POETIZER AXD AS PAGANIZfJR. 99 

nlous is presented, the superhuman self-restraint under 
Y/liIch, in all respects, the wi-iters express themselves, 
the intelligible adaj)tation of means to ends observahio 
throughout — all these characteristics are such, in antithe- 
sis to the characteristics marking the Buddhist legends, 
that you instinctively feel the difference between the 
one and the other to be a differcDce, not in degree, but in 
kind. So far is the resemblance between the two sys- 
tems from being such as justly to stagger the faith of 
the Christian, the difference rather is such as tends to 
make the Christian's faith more firm. It w^ould be q^uite 
like that father of lies who is revealed in the Bible as 
existent, and as mahgnantly active against our sinful race, 
to seek to merge and confound the truth that might 
save us among a thousand resemblances of error — re- 
semblances of error which, if not adapted quite to 
command our ])elief, are at least specious enough to 
involve everything else along with themselves in a 
common distrust and doubt. There is also — you per- 
ceive it all the time as you read these most mournful 
among the records of human device — a Mephistophelian 
strain of festive mockery and scorn, a leer on the face, a 
scoff' in the voice, that compose as inseparable a trace of the 
devil, in the Buddhist books, as, on the other hand, in the 
Bible, the grave, faithful, siucere, truth-telling tone fur- 
nishes irrefutable evidence of the presence there of the 
holy and heavenly Spirit of Almighty God. It is service, 
not of Christ, but of the adversary rather, for any man to 
blur and obscure the contrast between truth that makes 
alive, and error that kills. Let us beware how, even un- 
consciously, or in the fond and vain conceit of harmless 
literary art, we serve the purposes of the devil .and vol- 
unteer our feeble strength to countervail the working of 
that Lord Christ who will not fail nor bo discourao-ed 



iOO EDWIN ARNOLD. 

till He have set judgment in the earth, that Lord Christ 
for whose law the isles, still waiting, have waited so long. 
Those who ally themselves with Christ will have, more 
surely, a longer date of human recollection in the future, 
than those who trust the preservation of their memory to 
poems in praise of a fading myth like the myth of the 
Buddh. How foolish to chant your ode to a meteor of 
the twilight, when the great sun himself already sits 
half-risen on the kindled limits of the morning ! Your 
misdirected ode might indeed conceivably live, by a virtue 
inherent in itself, after the flash that inspired it had 
faded into darkness. Such will not howevei* be the fort- 
une of the '' Light of Asia." That poem cannot live by 
Buddhism, for Buddhism swiftly perishes ; but much 
more it cannot live by itself, for the quick seed of decay 
is wrapped up inseparably in it. 

That the view thus suggested of the future awaiting 
Buddhism is not due to mere bigot and zealot blindness, 
the natural disqualification of a partisan Christian, let the 
following words, published only a few months ago in a 
Japanese daily newspaper, (the Jijl Shimpo, if you desire 
the name,) from a native writer, himself apparently 
Buddhist in sympathy, bear witness — I use the transla- 
tion furnished in the Japan Gazette,, Yokohama, August 
16, ISS-i : "We regret to say it is our opinion that 
Buddhism cannot long hold its ground, and that Chris- 
tianity must finally prevail throughout all Japan. . . . 
Buddhism having reached the extreme of decay, in con- 
tendinc: with the youno-, enero:etic Christianitv, is iust as 
if an Old man at the point of death should undertake to 
contend with a lusty young man. Which of them would 
conquer, a three-year-old child could easily tell." 



III. 



It does not belong to the plan of the present essay to 
go into any independent discussion of the merits of Buddh- 
ism. Indeed, I do not pretend to knowledge of the 
system adequate for such a purpose. I have simply made 
some predatory incursions into a field, that it would 
require specialist's addiction of a lifetime, and of a long 
lifetime, thoroughly to explore — the field of Buddhist 
legend and of Buddhist ethics ; a few such incursions only 
I have made, bringing off with me thence a small booty of 
results that, presented here, may help inquisitive and 
candid readers to reach for tliemselves a just conclusion 
as to the general trustworthiness of the representations 
on the subject of Buddhism expressed or implied in Mr. 
Arnold's " Light of Asia.' ' 

A page or two back I ventured to say that Buddhism 
seemed to me a system possessing very much the charac- 
ter of a travesty of Christianity. There is resemblance, 
and there is difference, between the two, of just about the 
degree, and of just about the kind, that it would be nat- 
ural to expect, on the hypothesis that a consummately 
cunning foe to Christianity, like the devil, had had an im- 
portant part in contriving Buddhism. For putting salient- 
ly the points of coincidence betw^een the one and the other, 
I cannot perhaps do better than enlist the volunteered 
service of Dr. O. W. Holmes. That skilful literary 
workman commenced his article on the " Light of Asia," 
\i\i\\Q Tatei'national Revieic, with the following: remark- 



102 EDWIX ARXOLD, 

able paragrripli. One could not easily imagine anything 
better adapted to pique the curiosity, not to say stagger 
tlie faith, of a simple-hearted Christian reading it and 
thus making his first acquaintance with the ideas which 
it contains : 

^' If one were told that many centuries ago a celestial ray 
shone into the body of a sleeping woman, as it seemed to 
her in her dream ; that thereupon the advent of a 
wondrous child was predicted by the soothsayers ; that 
angels appeared at this child' s birth ; that merchants came 
from afar, bearing gifts to him ; that an ancient recog- 
nized the babe as divine and fell at his feet and worshipped 
him ; that in his eighth year the child confounded his 
teachers Avitli the amount of his Ivnowledo-e, still showino: 
them due reverence ; that he grew up full of compassion- 
ate tenderness to all that lived and suffered ; that to help 
his fellow-creatures he sacrificed every worldly prospect 
and enjoyment ; that he went through the ordeal of a ter- 
rible temptation, in which all the powers of evil were let 
loose upon him, and came out a concjueror over them all ; 
that he preached holiness and practised charity ; that he 
gathered disciples and sent out apostles, who spread his 
doctrine over many lands and peoples ; that this ' Helper 
of the W^orlds' could claim a more than earthly lineage and 
a life that dated from long before Abraham was — of whom 
would he think this wonderful tale was told ? 'Would he 
not say at once that this must be another version of the 
story of One who came upon our earth in a Syrian 
village, during the reign of Augustus Caesar, and died by 
violence during the reign of Tiberius ?'' 

I am not engaged in criticising Dr. Holmes, and so I 
need not concern myself to point out how much conform- 



AS POETIZEIi AND AS PACrAXTZFR. 103 

ing of the Euddliist legend was necessary in order to 
make out tlie series of confessedly existing coincidences, 
in a manner so striking as is exemplified in the foregoing- 
extract. It must at least be evident to readers, that 
resemblances too marked to be simply casual exist between 
legendary Buddhism and historical Christianity. A good- 
sized volume — more than one indeed — has lately been 
published in Germany, devoted to the j)urpose of dis- 
playing at large the coincidences between Buddhism and 
Christianity. A disposition evidently indulged by the 
writer, Rudolf Seydel, to make these coincidences numer- 
ous and striking, much impairs the value of the book for 
students in search of exact truth, truth as to the facts, and 
truth as to the impression legitimately j^roduced by the 
facts. How the resemblances actually existing arose, it 
would be curious, but perhaps not very profitable, at any 
great length, to inquire. Professor Max Miiller, a living 
Orientalist of unsurpassed reputation, testifies, as I re- 
member an expression of his, which 1 am not at this mo- 
ment able to verify, that he has made it in vain a study 
of his hfetime to trace the historical connection between 
Buddhism and Christianity. Dr. Rhys Davids, another 
perhaps equally eminent specialist in Orientalism, gives 
it positively as his opinion that there is, between the 
two, no historical connection. The problem of account- 
ing for their resemblances is probably hopeless, unless 
indeed it has already been solved — by the hypothesis of 
diabolism herein suggested. 1 will not discuss the point. 
1 am disposed rather, alongside of the resemblances, to 
show something of the differences co-existing with these. 
The differences and the resemblances studied together 
are very instructive. If there is any better hypothesis on 
which to account for them both at once, than the hypoth- 
esis of a Satanic agency in the business, why, I, for my 



104 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

part, am not so besotted in favor of that, as not will- 
ingly to admit the better. Let the better be produced. 
Provisionally, 1 intend to hold by the Satanic theory. 

My readers are now entitled to get for themselves some 
glimpse of the reasons that I lind for my view. I ask 
them, in examining what I shall spread before them from 
the Buddhist books, to consider whether it be not marked 
with much the character of malicious Mephistophelian 
mockery that should go along with literary and ethical 
machinations proceeding from the devil. If all is human, 
and nothing diabolic, in the sacred literature of Buddhism, 
at least the argument issuing is to me very convincing 
that, in the sacred literature of Christianity, with much 
that is human there must be mixed a large element that 
is authentically Divine. The chasm of contrast between 
the Buddhist sacred books and the Christian sacred books 
is too broad to stretch only from human to human. It 
must be, if not from j^artly diabolic, at least from hu- 
man, across to Divine. 

Take, for example, selected almost at random, first, a bit 
of highly specific description of Buddha's hal)itual manner 
of deporting himself. 1 must beg the reader to read the 
extract through. The (piantity of this sort of thing is near- 
ly as important as the quality of it. Imagine this set forth 
in the way of spiritual edification ! AVould it not be a 
fruitful result in character and in bearing — that which 
painstaking reproduction of the traits here mentioned 
as belonging to Buddhn, might justly be expected to 
elfectuate for any loving and venerating disciple of that 
sublime master ! — R, Spence Hardy's " Manual of Budh- 
ism," p. 384 ff. : 

^* There was a learned brahman, called Brahmayu, who 
'^ resided in the city of Mithila. To the same place came 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 105 

*' Gotama Biidiia ; and when the brahman heard of his 
^'arrival, knowing his fame, he commanded his disciple 
'^ Uttara to go and test his knowledge." 



The following is Uttara's report : 

" Uttara proceeded : When Budha walks, he places his 
^ right foot first, whether he has been sitting, standing, 
' or lying. He does not take wide strides, but walks at a 
' solemn pace ; nor does he take short steps ; even when 
' late, he does not walk too quickly, but like a priest pass- 
' ing along with the alms-bowl. He does not wait for the 
' priests when they have lagged behind ; he does not strike 
' his knees or his ankles against each other when he is 
'walking; he does not lift his shoulders up, like a 
' man in the act of swimming ; nor does he throw them 
' back, like the branch of a tree bent in the form of a 
' snare ; nor does he hold them stiffly, like a stake stuck 
' in the soft ground or a person who is afraid of falling 
' when walking in a slippery place ; nor does he throsv 
'them hither and thither like the movements of a doll 
' with wires. Only the lower part of his body moves 
' when he walks, so that he appears like a statue in a 
' ship ; the upper part being motionless, those at a dis- 
' tance cannot perceive that he moves. He does not 
' throw his arms about, so as to cause perspiration or pro- 
' duce fatigue. When he wishes to see anything that is 
' behind him, he does not turn his head merely, but at 
' once turns round the whole body, like the royal ele- 
'phant. He does not look upward, like a man counting 
' the stars, nor does he look downward, like a man searcli- 
' ing for some coin or other thing that he has lost. He 
' does not look about him, like a man staring at horses 
' or elephants, nor does lie look before him further than 



106 EDWII^ ARNOLD, 

' tlie distance of a plough or nine spans ; anything fur- 
' ther than this distance he sees only by his divine power, 
' not with tlie natural eye. When he enters any place, 
' he does not bend his body, nor carry it stiffly. When 
' about to sit down, moving gracefully, he does not place 
' himself at a greater or less distance from the seat than a 
' footstep ; he does not take hold of the seat with his 
'hand, like a person sick, nor does he go to seat him- 
' self like a person who has been fatigued by working, 
' but like a person who suspends something very carefully 
' or who puts down a portion of silk cotton. When 
' seated in any place, he does not remain doing something 
' foolish, like a priest playing with drops of water in the 
' rim of his alms-bowl, or twirling his fan. He does 
' not scrape his foot on the floor, nor does he put one 
' knee above the other. He does not place his chin 
' upon his hand. He never appears as if he was in any 
' way afraid, or in any trouble. Some teachers, when 
'they see any one coming to them to make inquiries 
' upon religious subjects, are in doubt, not knowing 
' whether they wdll be able to answ^er them or not ; others 
' are in perplexity, not knowing whether they will 
' receive the necessary alms or not ; but Budha is subject 
' to none of these trials, as he is free from all the doubts 
' and fears to which others are subject. When receiving 
'gruel, or other liquid, he does not hold the alms-bowl 
' too firmly, nor does he place it too high or too low, or 
' shake it ; holding it in both hands, he neither receives 
' too much nor too little, but the proper quantity. He 
' does not scrape the bowl when washing it, nor wash the 
' outside before the inside. He washes his hands at the 
' same time, and not after he has put down the bowl. 
' He does not throw the water to too great a distance ; 
' nor near his feet, so as to wet his robe. When receiv^ing 



a 



AS POETIZER AJS'D AS PAGAKIZER. 107 

solid food, lie holds the bowl in the same maimer as when 
receiving liquids. "When eating, three parts are rice, 
*' and only a fourth part condiment (curry). Some per- 
^'sons, when eating, take more condiment than rice, and 
'^ others more rice than condiment ; but Budha never ex- 
'^ ceeds the proper proportion. The food taken into his 
*' mouth he turns ov^er two or three times ; not a single 
'' grain is allowed to pass into the stomach without being 
'^ properly masticated, so that it is like flour ground in a 
mill. 1^0 part is retained in his mouth ; nor does he 
take more until the previous mouthful has been swallow- 
" ed. The dewas [supernatural beings] ahvays give to his 
*' food a divine flavor, and it does not produce the same 
consequences as in other men. He does not eat to 
ratify his appetite, like the common people ; nor to in- 
crease his size, hke kings and other great ones ; nor to 
*' render his body beautiful, hke those who are Hcentious ; 
*' nor to render his person agreeable, hke dancers and 
'' others. He merely eats to sustain existence, as a prop is 
'^ put to a falling house, or oil to the wheel of a wagon, or 
'' salve to a wound, or medicine is taken by the sick, or a 
*' raft is used to cross the river, or a ship the sea. When he 
^' has done eating, he does not put his alras-bowd by as if it 
'^ were a thing he cared about ; nor does he, hke some per- 
'' sons, wash it or dry it or fold it in his robe, to preserve it 
'' from dust. His meal being finished, he remains a mo- 
^'ment silent; unless he has to give the benediction in 
^' favor of the person wdio has presented the food. There 
'^ are some priests who hurry over thebana [religious dis- 
" course] spoken as a benediction, if there be a child cry- 
** ing, or urgent business, or if they be suflering from hun- 
^^ger. There are some again who talk with the people 
*' about sowing and ploughing, and such matters, instead of 
^' saying bana. But Budha says it deliberately, and on no 



ii 



a 



*' aceoniit omits it. Xor when eating: tlie fo(xl given him, 
*^ does he wish for any other, or ask vvliat kind of rice 
" it is, or dispai'j^e it. He does not say hana in suoh a ^var 
**' as to make it appear as if he wished to be invited apiin 
*'the next d«iy, or the day after ; nor when he sees any 
** one cooking does he begin to say bana with the hope 
• • of receiving a portion when it is ready. Btidha says bana 
*'that he may impart instrnction. T^hen passing from 
** one pkce to another, he does not go too fast, so as to 
'* fatigue liis attendants, nor too sk>wiy ; but at a becom- 
'* ing pace. He does not let his robe come too high or 
*' fall too low. There are some priests who put the robe 
*' close to the chin, or let it come so low as to cover the 
*' ankles, or put it on awry, or so as not to cover tlie breast. 
*'Budha avoided these extremes: he does not put on 
**]iis robe so loosely as to allow it to be rulHed by the 
*• ^nnd, nor so tightly as to cause pei-spiration. After 
** walking, his feet are washed, unless he has walked 
**u}x>n the pavement alone. He then njlect^ on the in- 
'' spf rated and expirated h'eath^ ajid j?ractises medita- 
^^ turn, ^hen he enters a wihara [monastery], he de- 
'* livers his discourse to the priests in kindness. He 
'' does not address the great ones of the earth by high 
*' titles, but speaks to them as to other men : nor does 
*• ' he address any one in jest ; but speaks as if what he 
*' says is of importance. His voice is pleasant in its tone, 
'* and his manner of speaking is free from hesitation ; 
'' his words come forth continuously, and being uttered 
'* from the navel they are loud, like the rolling thimder.'* 

It will not be denied that the powers of observation 
possessed by the messenger in tliis case must have been 
thoroughly practiced, as well as naturally very acute. 
Buddha appears to have been a highly circumspect and de- 



AS POETlZEll AND AS PAGANIZER. 109 

liberate gentleman, with many personal habits worthy, if 
not exactly of re\^erence, at least of entire approval and of 
general imitation. 1 hardly know, for instance, anything 
better for recommendation to children as a noble example 
of mastication in eating food, than the careful practice in 
this respect of Buddha. *' Kemember Buddha," I have 
heard a humorsome Christian father in America say at 
breakfast, with good effect, to his youngsters over-intent 
on satisfying at once the lusty appetite of childhood. 
These young people, from previous familiarity with the 
foregoing practical, low-flying fragment of Buddhist re- 
ligious lore, instantly understood the allusion intended. 
The admonition conveyed — owing to the brevity of the 
phrase, and to the muffled inward sound of the strange 
proper name, pronounced in a deep bass tone '' from 
the navel," — will be found on experiment capable of 
being given with a very fine sombre and salutary effect. 
As respects the pattern furnished for posture and gesture 
— it must be admitted that to sit, stand, and move, with 
altogether the mathematical precision observed by 
Buddha, nnght occasion something a bit stifiish or so in 
carriage and gait ; but that surely would be better than 
vulgar and irreligious precipitancy. For the benefit of 
any ambitious American neophytes in Buddhism that may 
happen to do me the honor to read my essay, 1 wouhi 
particularly call attention to the sentence foregoing that 
1 print in italics. It is full of marrow. Such persons 
as I have in. mind could not do better than ^^ reflect," 
after eating, on their '' inspirated and expirated breath." 
That one hint, faithfully carried out, forms within itself 
a complete manual for successful introspection. The 
eyes should be directed somewhat downward and inward 
— in fact, toward the '^ navel." As the reflection pro- 
ceeds, the absorption of the subject becomes constantly 



110* ED WIN ARNOLD, 

more and more profound. The cliin appvoaclies tlie 
breast, the eyelids droop, the breath ^' reflected " upon 
grows deliglitfully regular, and the subject sinks into 
a suspense of consciousness closely resembling that 
oiirrana which is his highest good. To say it all in a 
word, you are sound asleep before you know it. I have 
tried substantially this exj^eriment scores perhaps of 
times, and seldom or never without gratifying results. 
If it fails as religion, it is sure to succeed as soporific. 

In sad sincerity now, compare such rejigious pabulum 
as this from the Buddhist books, with what you find in 
the Gospels about the behavior of Jesus. A casual 
coincidence between the Buddhist and the Christian 
records enables us to do this conveniently. John the 
Baptist once sent disciples of his to Jesus, and these 
messengers brought back to their Master a report of tlieir 
observations : 

'' TThen the men were come unto him, they said, John 
Baptist hath sent us unto thee, saying, Art thou he tliat 
should come ? or look we for another ? And in tlie 
same hour he cured many of tlieir infirmities and 
plagues, and of evil spirits ; and imto many that were 
blind he gave sight. Then Jesus, answering, said unto 
them, Go your way, and tell John what things ye have 
seen and heard ; how that the blind see, the lame walk, 
the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are 
raised, to the poor the gospel is preached. And blessed 
is he, whosoever shall not be offended in me."' 

Is not the gulf of difference enormous I "Wjiat do 
you suppose saved the Christian evangelists from lapse 
into the abyss of the grotesque and the inane that so 
swallowed up the writers of the Buddhist books ? Was it 



AS POETIZER AJn-D AS PAGAXIZER. Ill 

not, partly at least, the circumstance tliat these men had 
fact, instead of fiction, to report ? 

I should be guilty of violating just international comity,' 
besides exhibiting myself incapable of cosmopolitanism 
in spirit, were I to ti'eat with misbecoming levity any 
foreign race's serious attempt to set forth, in literary 
representations, its ideal man. Buddha as a man, 
whether you regard him in the light of a real historical 
personage, or of a mere imaginative conception of the 
human mind, is in many points of his character, and at 
many points of his career, worthy of respect, respect 
tending to mount into the region of reverence. In 
wdiichever way regarded— whether as a once actually 
existing individual man, or as the product of a great 
race's best attempts at idealization of human nature — let 
him but be regarded sim/ply as a man among men, and 
Buddha commands from me a sentiment of admiration, 
qualified, indeed, but sincere, But when I am asked to 
contemplate Buddha as author of a religion competing 
with Christianity for ]ny suffrage, then I feel free to 
point out the ridiculousness of his claims. 

Everybody in America that knows anything whatever 
of Buddhism, knows that the doctrine of the transmigra- 
tion of souls is one of the distinctive features of the 
system. (Dr. Rhys Davids, indeed, if I understand him 
right, seeks to show that not true transmigration, but an 
endless succession of new and different beings — each in- 
dividual inheriting the merit or demerit acquired by his 
predecessor in the series — is what Buddhism teaches.) 
Buddha himself was entangled in the whirl and succes- 
sion of interminable metempsychosis. Perhaps some 
arithmetical reader of mine would like to know what was 
the approximately exact census of this particular person's 
alleged transmigrations of existence, previous to his final 



113 EDWIN" ARNOLD, 

incarnation as G-antama Buddha. 1 can gratifiy him — • 
out of Mr. Hard J, Mr. Hardy says, ^' Manual of Budh- 
*ism," p. 102 : 

'' At my request, my native pundit made an analysis 
of the number of times in which Gotama Bodhisat ap- 
peared in particular states of existence, as recorded in 
the Jatakas, and the following is the result. An 
ascetic, 83 times ; a monarch, 58 ; the dewa of a tree, 
43 ; a religious teacher, 26 ; a courtier, 24 ; a prohita 
brahman, 24 ; a prince, 24 ; a nobleman, 23 ; a learned 
man, 22 ; the devv-a Sekra, 20 ; an ape, IS ; a merchant, 
13 ; a man of wealth, 12 ; a deer, 10 ; a lion, 10 ; the 
bird hansa, 8 ; a sni]3e, 6 ; an elephant, 6 ; a fowl, 5 ; a 
slave, 5 ; a golden eagle, 5 ; a horse, 4 ; a bull, 4 ; 
the brahma Maha Brahma, 4 ; a peacock, 4 ; a serpent, 
4 ; a potter, 3 ; an outcast, 3 ; a guana, 3 ; twice each 
a fish, an elephant-driver, a rat, a jackal, a crow, a wood- 
pecker, a thief, and a pig ; and once each a dog, a curer 
of snake bites, a gambler, a mason, a smith, a devil- 
dancer, a scholar, a silversmith, a carpenter, a water- 
fowl, a frog, a hare, a cock, a kite, a jungle-fowl, and a 
kindura. ' ' 

It rather discourages to have Mr, Hardy add, ^^ It is evi- 
dent, however, that this list is imperfect." One would 
like to be sure one knew it all just right. 1 have myself 
the satisfaction of being able to supply one omission. 
Gautama was once a squirrel — V\diereby hangs a Buddhist 
tale now presently to follow. Yes, Dr. Holmes ! Accord- 
ing to the genealogy above given, Buddha could indeed 
"" claim a more than earthly lineage and a life that dated 
from long before Abraham was." But the efiect, how 
different ! of such a concatenation of pre-existences for 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANTZER. 113 

Biiddlia, and of Jesus's simple and sublime, " Before 
Abraham was, I am." 

From tlie moment, during any of his successi\^e 
changes of form, that a being becomes a recognized and 
accepted candidate for future Buddhaship, he is called, 
.BSdhisat. The Bodhisat must fulfil certain exacting 
conditions, which the sacred books, as translated by Mr. 
Hardy, ''Manual of Budhism," pp. 106, 107, thus de- 
scribe : 



" 1. He must be a man and not a dewa. It is there- 
fore requisite that the Bodhisat continually keep the 
ten precepts, that lie may have the merit to be born 
as a man. 2. He must be a male, and not a female ; 
and therefore the Bodliisat must avoid all sins that 
would cause him to he horn as a woman. 3. He must 
have the merit that would enable him to become a 
rahat ; all evil desire must be destroyed. 4. There 
must be the opportunity of offering to a supreme 
Budlia, in whom also firm faith must be exercised. 5. 
There must be the abandonment of the world, and the 
Bodhisat must become an ascetic. 6. He must possess 
the virtue derived from the practice of dhyana [a cer- 
tain rite of Budhism] and other similar exercises, 
nor can the assurance be received by one that is unjust 
or wicked. 7. He must firmly believe that the 
Bud ha with whom he communicates is free from 
sorrow, and that he himself will possess the same 
power ; and he must inquire at what period he will 
receive the Buddhaship. 8. He must exercise a firm 
determination to become a Budha ; and were he even 
told that in order to obtain its exalted rank he must 
endure the pains of hell during four asankya-kap-lak- 
ehas, he must be willing to suffer all this for its sake." 



114 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

It is comfortable to know that over agalust these 
severe exactions from the Bodhisat, might be set down 
certain very considerable compensating advantages, 
thirteen in number, "" ]\lanualof Budhism," pj). 107, lOS : 

''1. He is never born in any of the eight great hells ; 
'' all other beings receive this birth, but the Bodhisats 
*' never. 2. He is never born in the Lokantarika hell. 
'' 3. He is never born in the Nijhamatanha preta world. 
*'4. He never receives the khuppipasa preta birth, 
''though all other beings endure it. 5. He never re- 
'' ceives the kalahanjanaka preta birth, though all other 
*' beings are subject to it. 6. He is never born as any 
'' kind of vermin ; he is never a louse, bug, ant, or 
*' worm ; all otlier beings receive these births, but the 
'' Bodhisat is never born less than a snipe ; nor is he ever 
''born as a serpent or as any other animal of a shnilar 
" species. '7. He is nev^er born blind, dund), deaf, a 
" cripple, or leprous. 8. lie is never horn as a female. 
" 9. He is never born as one of doubtful sex. 10. He 
'' never commits any of the five great sins. 11. He is 
'' never born in an ariipa world, as in those states there is 
" no acquisition of merit. 12. There are otlier states of 
" existence in which he is not born, as the prince never 
" defiles his caste by entering the dwellings of connnon 
" men. 13. He is never a sceptic." 

The following story, the promised story of the squirrel, 
is told in the Buddhist sacred books to illustrate the in- 
trepid resohition exhibited by Gautama Bodhisat. It 
will be seen from this that Buddha is not conceived of by 
the Buddhists as a sinless being, but as one that need- 
ed first to redeem himself before he could be redeemer 
to others. This is a 2">oint of remove from Christianity 



A3 POETIZER AND AS PAGAXIZER. 1x5 

at which the two systems are separated by the '' whole 
diameter of being."—" Manual of Budhism," p. 108 f. : 

'^ At a certain time Gotama Bodhisat was born as a 
squirrel, on account of some demerit of a former age. 
In the forest he was attentive to his young ones, pro- 
viding for them all that was necessary ; but a fearful 
storm arose, and the rivers overflowed their banks, so 
that the tree in which lie had built his nest was thrown 
down by the current, and the little ones were carried 
along with it far out to sea. But Bodhisat determined 
that he would release them ; and for this purpose he 
dipped his tail in the waves, and sprinkling the water 
on the land, he tliought in this manner to dry up the 
ocean. After he had persevered seven days, he was 
noticed by Sekra, who came to him and asked what 
he was doing. On being told, he said, ' Good 
squirrel ! you are only an ignorant animal, and there- 
fore you have commenced tliis undertaking ; the sea 
is 84,000 yojanas in depth ; liow then can you dry it 
up ? Even a thousand or a hundred thousand men 

• would be unable to accomplish it, unless they were 

• rishis.' The squirrel replied, ' Most courageous of 
' men ! if the men were all like you, it v/ould be just as 

you say, as you have let the extent of your courage 
be known by the declaration ; but I have no time 
just now to spend v/ith such imbeciles as you, so you 
may be gone as soon as you pleape.' Then Sekra 
caused the young squirrels to be brought to the land, 
as he was struck with the indomitable courage of the 
' parent." 

A good parable of spunk, this squirrel story makes, as 
it stands. Seven days did very well, but to me in- 



116 EDWIN" ARNOLD, 

clividuallj it would be more entirely satisfactory, if the 
valiant little squirrel liad been left to wag his tail a 
couple of hundred thousands of years or so, just to put 
his quality to proof w^orthy of Buddha. The very lib- 
eral estimates of time common in Buddhist chronology 
seem to warrant some such free probationary period as 
the one suggested. 

Here is a story of Buddhist consolation. I do not see 
that the wit of man unassisted could do better ; still, 
for consolation, it seems such irony, that to me I confess 
it reads a good deal more like the devil trying his 
hand at sympathy, than like that " God of all comfort" 
whom we know out of great-hearted Paul. The story 
of course is one concerning Buddha, ^' Manual of Budh- 
ism.," pp. 109, 110 : 

'^ It came to pass that whilst Gotama Budha resided 
'' in the wihara called Jetawana, near the city of Sewet, 
*' he related the following Jataka, on account of an as- 
'^ cetic who had lost his father. In what way ? Budha 
'' having perceived that an ascetic who had lost his father 
'^ endured great affliction in consequence, and knowing 
" by what means he could point out the way of relief, 
'^ took with him a large retinue of priests, and proceeded 
" to the dwelling of the ascetic. Being honorably seat- 
^^ ed, he inquired, ' Why are you thus sorrowful, ascetic ? ' 
" to which the bereaved son replied, ' I am thus sorrow- 
*' ful on account of the death of my father.' On hearing 
'* this, Budha said, ' It is to no purpose to weep for the 
'' dead ; a word of advice is given to those who weep 
'' for the thing that is past and gone.' In what manner ? 
^' That which follows is the relation. 

^^ In a former age, when Brahmadatta was king of 
^^ Benares, Bodhisat was born of a wealthy family, and 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 117 

'' was called Sujata. The grandfather of Sujata sickened 
"and died, at which his father was exceedingly sorrow- 
'^ful ; indeed his sorrow was so great, that he removed 
"the hones from their hnrial-place, and deposited them 
"in a place covered with earth near his own house, 
"whither he went thrice a day to weep. The sorrow 
"almost overcame him ; he ate not, neither did he drink. 
" Bodhisat thought within himself, that it was proper to 
" attempt the assuaging of his father's grief ; and there- 
"fore, going to the spot where there was a dead buffalo, 
"he put grass and water to its mouth and cried out, 
" ' Oh, buffalo, eat and drink ! ' The people perceived 
'' his folly, and said, ' What is this, Sujata ? Can a dead 
'' biifEalo eat grass or drink water ? ' lint without paying 
" any attention to their interference, he still cried out, 
" ' Oh, buffalo, eat and drink! ' The people concluded that 
" he was out of his mind, and went to inform his father ; 
" who, forgetting his parent from his affection for his 
" son, went to the place where he was, and enquired the 
"reason of his conduct. Sujata rephed, ' There are the 
"feet and the tail, and all the interior parts of the 
" buffalo, entire ; if it be foohsh in me to give grass and 
" water to a buffalo, dead, but not decayed, why do you, 
" father, weep for my grandfather, when there is no 
" part of him to be seen ? ' [Greek Solon, sorrowful for 
"the loss of a son, to one consoling him with, ' Weep- 
"ing will do no good,' said, ^ That is what makes me 
" weep.' The Indian, it will be seen, was more consol- 
" able.] The father then said, ^ True, my son ; what 
"you say is like the throwing of a vessel of water upon 
"lire; it has extinguished my sorrow ; ' and thus say- 
" ing he returned many thanks to Sujata. 

" This Sujata Jataka is finished. 1, Budha, am the 
" person who was then born as the youth Sujdta." 



118 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

What a heaven of difference between this and Jesus's 
to Martha, 

^^ Thy brother shall rise again" ! 

Or Paul's to the Thessalonians : 

^' But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, 
concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, 
even as others which have no hope. For if we believe 
that Jesus Christ died and rose again, even so them also 
wliich sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this 
we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we whicli 
are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall 
not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord him- 
self shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the 
voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God ; and 
the dead iu Christ shall rise first ; then w^e which are 
alive and remain shall be caught up together with them 
in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air ; and so shall 
we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore, comfort one an- 
other with these words." 

The difference between this and that, which every 
reader must feel, is not the difference between Oriental 
and Occidental ; for both are Oriental, the Buddhist 
Scripture and the Christian alike. It would be cruel 
to draw these contrasts, if the question were of Buddha 
simply as a poor Pagan groping in the dark and gath- 
ering dust and chaff. But Buddha is advanced now 
by some among us to rivalry and brotherhood with 
Jesus as a Saviour. It is well therefore to have the 
difference between the two not overlooked. Let it 
be seen that there is an antipathy, as well as a sym- 
pathy, of religions. Pathetic it is to me beyond 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 119 

expression, to tliiiik of that noble and gentle spirit of 
ancient Indian paganism making his futile false motions 
to save a world, that could be saved by nothing short of 
a Saviour God ! Over Buddha himself one could weep, 
weep tears of admiration and of compassion — for his 
comparative moral height invites the one, while his miser- 
able failure compels the other ; but toward those who, 
dwelling in present noonday Christian light, talk, in the 
same breath, and with like homage, of Buddha and of 
Jesus, what emotion is fit ? For myself, I find it hard to 
refrain from an emotion that might be fit indeed toward 
such, were it an emotion fit toward any from disciples of 
Jesns. 

It is proper that I should make an explanation. The 
Buddhist stories that have here been given from Mr. 
Hardy's book, are from a comment on Buddha's sup- 
posed discourses, and not from the supposed discourses 
themselves. The comment, however, has been formally 
declared of equal authority with the discourses. It is far 
more popular than they, because far more entertaining, 
and it probably exerts quite as much teaching power. 
To the discourses proper we shall presently come ; but 
first let me still give Buddhism to my readers a little 
more at large, in the myths that really compose the sys- 
tem, as the system practically makes itself most felt in 
the lives of its adherents. 

It happened once to the. much-enduring Buddha, 
among his many chances of transmigration, to be born 
monkey-king to a nation of 80,000 monkeys. Here is a 
sacred anecdote of Buddha in this interesting royal rela- 
tion of his, " Manual of Budhism," p. 116 : 



a 



''In this birth, Bodhisat was the king of 80,000 
monkevs. The tribe lived in the forest of Himala 



120 EDWIK ARXOLD, 

^' near a village, in \vliicli was a timber j tree laden with 
'^ fruit. The monkeys requested permission of their 
^' king to go and seize the fruit ; but his majesty for- 
'^ bade them, when he learnt that the village was inliab- 
" ited. They, however, ascended the tree in the middle 
'' of the night, and were busy at work, w^hen one of the 
'^ villagers having occasion to rise, saw what they were 
^^ about, and gave the alarm. The tree was soon sur- 
'* rounded by people, armed with sticks, "who were re- 
^' solved to wait until the dawn, and then kill the mon- 
'' keys. Information was conveyed to the king that his 
'^ tribe were in this predicament ; so he immediately 
" went to the village, and set lire to the house of an old 
" Avoman. The people, of course, ran to extinguish the 
" llames, and thus the monkeys escaped." 

Now, does that not read like the devil himself making 
game of us poor human creatures vrillingly deluded ? 
True enough, if there is in fact no devil at all, why, then, 
of course, it easily follows that no devil at all could have 
had to do with this Buddhist business. But let it be 
supposed for the moment that the Bible tells the truth 
about the being of such a personage — say, does it not 
then seem like the very devil's own waggery, this tale of 
a human saviour's smartness as monkey ? 

There are, I understand, people of the Christian Occi- 
dent that have got themselves distended to liberality 
enough, and elated to enthusiasm enough, to become 
rapt disciples of Buddha. 1 have among my miscellanea 
of material gathered for this essay a newspaper paragraph 
of late date reciting how a Buddhist temple is about to 
be opened in Paris. It is the Buddhist piety, so we are 
given to beheve, of a wealthy Englishwoman that pro- 
poses this worlv^ of devotion to the Indian saviour. I am 



AS POKTIZEU AXU AS PAUANIZEIl. 121 

going now to introduce an extract from the Buddhist 
literature tliat may prove of practical value to any of my 
readers, like in faith with the aforesaid English lad}^, and 
having it in mind to attain a high degree in this attrac- 
tive pagan cult. 1 am going to introduce, translated for 
us by Mr. Hardy (in his " Legends and Theories of the 
Buddhists," p. 179 ff.), directions as to the proper steps 
for Buddhist votaries to take in securing final extinction 
of being. The passage about to be presented is conceived 
in a strain more serious and severe than has been illus- 
trated in the citations preceding. Prepare now for some- 
thing on which the pious soul may recruit its strength. 
1 give one of the most exalted purely religious strains 
that I have found in Buddhist literature. This is Buddh- 
ism at its religious best : 

*' The priest who intends to practise the dhyatias seeks 
out a retired locality, as, the foot of a tree, a rock, a 
cave, a place where dead bodies have been burned, or 
an nncultiv^ated and uninhabited part of the forest, and 
prepares a suitable place with his robe or with strav/. 
lie then seats himself, cross-legged, in an upright posi- 
tion, with his mind free from attachment and all evil 
thoughts, and with compassion towards all sentient 
beings, putting away sluggishness and drowsiness, 
possessed of wisdom and understanding, and leaving 
all doubt, uncertainty, and questioning, purifies his 
mind, and rejoices. Like a sick man who gains health, 
he rejoices ; or a merchant wdio gains wealth, or a pris- 
oner who gains liberty, or a slave who gains freedom, 
or a traveller along a dangerous road who gains a 
place of safety. Thus rejoicing, he is refreshed in 
body ; he has comfort ; and his mind is composed. 
But he retains witairka, reasoning, and wichara, inves- 



123 EDWI^ ARNOLD, 

^' Ligation. Tliis rejoicing is diffused tlirongli liis whole 
'' body, as the wind entirely fills the bag that contains 
'' it, or as the oil in which cotton has been dipped per- 
*' vades every part ; it conies in contact with his 
*^ organized frame on all .sides ; there is no part of his 
" body that does not feel it. Like an attendant who takes 
'' a metal vessel, in w^hich he puts some of the powder 
'' used when batliing, and then mixes water wntli it, as 
'*^ much as is required, working them together, within and 
'' without, until the blending is complete ; so does this 
^' rejoicing permeate through the whole body, and is 
*' diffused throughont every part. 

" In the second dhydna, the priest has put away and 
^' overcome reasoning and investigation, and attained to 
'' clearness and fixedness of tliought, so that his mind is 
'' concentrated on one object, and he has rejoicing and 
" gladness. There is no part of him that does not enjoy 
*' the pleasant result ; as a deep lake into wdiich no river 
^' flows, no rain falls, and no water springs up from 
'' beneath, is filled and pervaded in every part by the 
'' water, and is free from agitation. 

'' In the third dhyana there is no rejoicing, no glad- 
'' ness, and no sorrow ; but there is upekkha, tranquiUity, 
'^ which is diffused through every part of his body, like 
"the w^ater that nourishes the lotus, pervading every 
'^ part, and passing from the root to the petals, so that it 
'• is saturated wnth water throughout its whole texture. 

''In the fourth dhyana, reasoning, investigation, joy, 
'' and sorrovf, are overcome, and he attains to freedom 
" from attachment to sensuous objects, and has purity 
'' and enlightenment of mind. These envelop him, as a 
'' man when he is covered by a white cloth from head to 
'' foot, leaving no part of his person exposed. 

*' The priest who has practised the four dhyanas 



AS POETIZEIl AXD AS PAGAXIZER. 123 

ariglit lias the power to bring into existence a figure 
similar to liimself, witli like senses and members ; but 
lie knows that it is not himself, as a man who distin- 
guishes one kind of grass from another, or a sword 
from its scabbard, or a serpent from its cast-off skin. 
This priest has tlie power of irdhi, which is thus exer- 
cised. 

" 1. Being one, he multiplies himself, and becomes 
many ; being many, he individualizes liimself, and be- 
comes one ; and he makes himself visible or invisible 
at will. As one who goes into the water and comes 
up again, so does he descend into the earth, and again 
rise out of it ; he walks on water as others v/alk on dry 
land ; as a bird he can rise into the air, sitting cross- 
legged ; he can feel, and touch, and grasp, the sun 
and moon ; in any part of space, as high up as the 
brahma-lokas, he can do anything he likes witli his 
body, like a potter who has the power to fashion as he 
likes the clay, or as a carver in ivory with his figures, 
or a goldsmith with his ornaments. 
" 2. By the possession of divine ears, he can distin- 
guish the sounds made by men and dewas, that are not 
audible to others, whether near or distant ; and he can 
tell one sound from another, as a traveller, when he 
hears the sound of different drums and chanques, can 
distinguish the roll of the drum from the blast of the 
trumpet, and the blast of the trumpet from the roll of 
the drum. 

'' 3. By directing his mind to the thoughts of others, he 
can know the mind of all beings ; if there be attacli- 
ment to sensuous objects, he can perceive it, and he 
knows whether it is there or not ; it is the same with 
all other evils and ignorances ; and he knows wlio arc 
firm or fixed, and who are unstable. This knowledge 



124 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

^' extends both to tlie riipa and arupa worlds, the worlds 
'' in which tiicre is body and which there is not, and \t 
'' obtains as to those wdio are about to enter nirwana, and 
^' are rahats. As a youth fond of pleasure, when he 
'^ looks into a mirror, or still water, learns therefrom all 
'^ about liis face and appearance, so the priest can distin- 
^^ guish the thoughts of others of whatever kind. 

"Jr. By directing his mind to the remembrance of 
^' former births, he sees one, two, a hundred, a thou- 
'' sand, ten thousand, and many kalpas, of existences ; 
'^ and thinks — I have been there, in such a place ; and 
'' my name, family, color, food, and circumstances, were 
" of such a kind ; I went from this place, and was born 
^Mn that place — tracing the manner of his existence 
^' from one birth to another, and from one locality to 
'' another. As a man who lias business in another 
'^ village goes there, and on his return remembers, I 
'' stood there and I sat tliere ; there 1 spoke, and there 
'' I was silent ; in the same way a man remembers his 
^^ former births whether one thousand or ten thousand. 

*' 5. By directing his mind to the attainment of 
^' chakkhupassana-gnj^ana, or divine vision, he sees sen- 
*' tient beings as they pass from one state of existence to 
^' another, and the position in which they are born, 
''whether they are mean or noble, ill-favored or good- 
*' looking. He sees that others, on account of errors 
*' they have embraced, or propagated, are born in hell, 
" and that others again, on account of their merit and 
*' truthfulness, are born in some heavenly world. As a 
''man with good sight, from the upper story of his 
" house, sees the people in the street ; some entering 
" the dwelling, and some coming out, and others riding 
" in vehicles of different descriptions ; so the priest sees 
" the circumstances of other beings in all worlds. 



AS POETIZER AXD AS PAGANIZER. 125 

'•' 6. By directing his mind to the four kinds of evil — 
viz., anger, a desire for existence, ignorance, and 



** scepticism ; he knows that this is sorrow, this the 
'' cause of sorrow, this the cessation of sorrow, and this 
^' the cause of the cessation of sorrow ; and again that 
''this is evil, this the cause of evil, this the cessation 
'' of evil, and this the cause of the cessation. His mind 
'' is free from the four kinds of evil. He knows, I have 
'' overcome the repetition of existence ; I have completed 
" my observance of the precepts ; that which is proper 
''to be done, I have done ; there is nothing further to 
" which 1 have to attend ; my work is completed and 
" ended. As a man who stands by the side of a lake, 
"when the water is clear and still, sees under the sur- 
" face different kinds of shells, stones, potsherds, and 
"fishes, some in motion and some at rest, and thinks, 
" Here are shells, here are stones, here are potsherds, 
" and here are fishes ; so the priest knows, I have over- 
' ' come the repetition of existence ; all that I have to do, 
" is done." 

" The above paragraphs," Mr. Hardy explains, " are 
taken from the Suttanta called Samanya Phala, or the 
advantages of the priesthood." 

Buddhism at its religious best, I called the foregoing 
extract. At its reb'gious most characteristic, perhaps I 
should have said rather. The following will be by 
many considered better : 

" A rich merchant of the name of Purna had become 
" a convert to Buddha's teaching, and, renouncing all his 
" wealth, resolved to fix his abode among a neighboring 
"savage tribe, wdiom he wished to convert to the law. 
" Buddha at first tried to discourage him.. 



126 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

'^ ' The men of Sronaparanta, wliitlier thou wilt go,' 
' he said to him, ' are violent, cruel, furious, and insolent. 
•• When they utter wicked, gross, and insolent words to 
' thy face, when they grow angry with thee and abuse 
' tliee, wliat Avilt thou think ? ' 

'' ' This is what 1 will think,' replied Purna, ' these 
' men are certainly good and kind, who do not strike 
' me either with their hands or with stones. ' 

" ' But if they strike tliee with their hands and with 
*• stones, what wilt thou think of them ? ' 

*' '1 w^ill think that they are good and kind, as they 
^ do not strike me with the sword.' 

^' ' But if they strike thee with sticks or with the 
' sword, what wilt thou think of them ? ' 

'' ' 1 will think them good and kind, as they do not 
' take my life.' 

^' ' But if they take thy life, what wilt thou think of 
' them ? ' 

'' ^ 1 will think the men of Sronaparanta good and 
' kind, to deliver me with so little pain from this body 
^ full of vileness.' 

"'It is well,' replied Buddha, 'with such perfect 
' patience thou canst live among the Sronaparantas. Go 
' then, O Purna, delivered thyself, deliver others ; thy- 
' self arrived on the other shore, bring others there ; 
'thyself consoled, do thou console ; thyself arrived at 
' Nirvana, teach others the way.' 

'' Purna, thus encouraged, went to dwell among that 
' tribe, and by his gentleness and resignation won them 
" from their savage customs to the law." 

The Rev. John Robson makes the foregoing contribu- 
tion to our fund of Buddhist anecdote. I take it from 
his " Ilinduiem and its Relations to Christianity." He 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAN'IZER. 127 

acknowledges, however, his indebtedness to M. St. 
Ililaire for this pretty garnish of story. M. St. Hilaire 
is a writer of excellent rank, but he is a Frenchman. 
Frenchmen love to tell a story v/ell, and they know how. 
The 'present story lost nothing of point and feeling in 
passing through M. St. Ililaire's hands. Whether or 
not true (genuinely Buddhist it certainly is, for Mr. 
Hardy also has it, p. 268 — in a much less rhetorical 
form), at least it must be confessed well invented. Let 
us Christians be braced by it. 



lY. 



We have played long eiiongli about the outside and 
border of Buddhism. Let iis see if we can find our 
way into the heart of the system. It will be desirable 
to learn whether the " benignity" of its influence is, 
from its inherent, its inseparable character, likely to 
have been, and to be, such as Mr. Arnold represents it. 

As a religion. Buddhism is mysticism, if it is any- 
thing. God in it there is none. It is an infinitely 
tedious series of self -manipulations. You do not get out 
of yourself. You only get, as it were, more deeply into 
yourself. There is no human immortality in the system. 
The highest aim you have, as the object of a '^ universal 
hope," is to stop being. To bo or not to be, that is 7iot 
tlie question with the Buddhist. The Buddhist has 
that point settled for him out of hand and peremptorily. 
Existence to him is one long succession of ills. From 
these ills the sole escape is annihilation. '' Sad cure" ! 
This, in short, is Buddhism — the religious system. It is 
atheism — it is pessimism. 

Where, then, lies the merit of Buddhism ? Or has it 
no merit ? Yes, assuredly it has merit. But not as a 
religion. As a religion, it can have no merit, for it is 
not a religion. Essentially, it is a denial of the possi- 
bility of religion. Religion requires a god, and, as I 
have said, there is in Buddhism no god. But without 
being a religion. Buddhism is highly ethical. The ethics 
of Buddhism are, for us Occidentals, the heart of the 
system. Let us examine its ethics. 



EDWIN ARNOLD. 120 

Witliont independent examination of my own, from 
prepossession merely, I was inclined beforehand to make, 
on the score of its ethics, large concessions to Buddhism. 
To that extent the influence now strangely everywhere 
abroad in the air, had wrought with me. 1 was willing — 
as, from what I had seen in writers. Christian, some of 
them, on comparative religion, I supposed myself war- 
ranted — to say that, beyond perhaps any other pagan race, 
the Indian people had, in Buddhism, shown for ns the 
utmost capacity belonging to the unassisted human 
reason and conscience for the apprehension and discrim- 
ination of moral truth. What was not accomplished by 
Buddha in this field, would, I had thus piresumed it safe 
to say, be found beyond the reach of human powers to 
accomplish. Buddha, in my preconception, was a great, 
perhaps — inspired peers apart — unequalled, ethical teach- 
er. His system of morality, both for height and for com- 
prehension, I was quite ready to regard as almost a mir- 
acle of human achievement. 

I found it agreeable to indulge these prepossessions. 1 
love to be just, and I love to admire. I Avent farther, 
and said with myself, To the extent to which we may 
assume the Buddha of the legends to be a real personage, 
probably Buddha himself was the peer of the highest, 
the peer of Socrates, if not in intellectual, certainly in 
moral, character. If 1 did not go on to comparing him 
even with Jesus, it was because, as between Buddha and 
Jesus 1 felt the difference to be a difference less of degree, 
than of kind. For comparison, there need to be brought 
together individuals of the same kind. 

All this was before I had made independent inquisi- 
tion of my own into the essential character of Buddhist 
morality. I lament to say that I am forced now to take 
a much less favorable view of the system. 



130 EDWI>r ARNOLD, 

Of the system, I say ; for, in seeking to do justice 
to Biiddlia, the man, as teaclier of morals, I am con- 
fronted with an insurmountable difficulty. Let it be 
supposed certain that such a personage once existed, still 
there exists no trustworthy and authoritative repository 
of Buddha's ethical teacliing. "We only know what 
Buddhism teaches. We cannot know what Buddha 
taught. Buddha, if he lived at all, lived, say, fiv^e hun- 
dred years before Christ. This is the highest antiquity 
that the best authorities will admit for Buddha. Two 
hundred years elapsed after he died, before his teachings 
were committed to writing. During this long interval, 
his teachings were preserved only in the memory of his 
disciples. The form, therefore, in which they now exist 
is a form possessing no just claim to bo considered 
authentic. This is not a derogation from Buddhism. 
It is simple recognition of a fact. The fact is not, I 
believe, disputed by any one. The contrast is thus seen 
to be broad between the record of what Buddlia taught 
and the record of what Jesus taught. The Gospels 
w^ere, by general consent, the product of an age in which 
actual witnesses of the life of Jesus still moved among 
men. The character of the tw^o records differs corre- 
spondingly. There is something fixed and definite in the 
narrative of the Gospels. In the legends of Buddha, 
everything is shadowy and vague. I can only try to be 
perfectly fair to Buddha the man. I am sure that, pro- 
vided my English authorities give me safe translations, 
I can, with good endeavor, succeed in being perfectly 
fair to Buddhism, the system. The good endeavor at 
least shall not be wanting. 

I first give that ostensible compend, in metre, of the 
ethical system of Buddhism, with which Mr. Arnold 
closes his report of the discourse of Buddha contained in 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGA^^IZER. 131 

tlie last book of the '^Liglit of Asia." The couplets, as 
will be seen, are characterized by a peculiar simplicity 
which it requires much discernment on the reader's part 
to distinguish from the quality of mere and pure doggerel : 

" Kill not — for pity's sake — and lest ye slay 
The meanest thing upon its ui^ward way, 

" Give freely and receive, but take from none 
By greed, or force, or fraud, what is his own. 

•' Bear not false witness, slander not, nor lie ; 
Truth is the speech of inward ptirity. 

" Shun drugs and drinks which work the wit abuse ; 
Clear minds, clean bodies, need no Soma juice. 

*' Touch not thy neighbor's wife, neither commit 
Sins of the flesh unlawful and unfit." 

Whatever may be thought of this as poetry, it cer- 
tainly reads very well as morality. But let us see. 

In Mr. Hardy's '' Manual of Budhism," confessed to 
be a trustworthy source of knowledge respecting the 
system, the concluding section, upward of fifty large and 
closely printed pages, is devoted to the subject of ' ' The 
Ethics of Buddhism." Here we have what I believe to 
be faithful translations from the very text of the Buddh- 
ist books current in Ceylon, a representative Buddhist 
country — books constituting for that country the accepted 
canon of Buddhist sacred literature. We seem as little 
liable as, in the nature of things, we could ho23e to be, 
to do Buddhism any wrong, if we try Buddhist morality 
by its own supposed original expression. (What we shall 
do will be something like what it would be to try the Bible 
by our Enghsli version. For the Singhalese Buddhist 
books are translated by Mr. Hardy from a Pali original.) 

1 go to the Buddhist decalogue, as wo may call a list 



132 EDWIIS' ARNOLD, 

of ten prohibitions that sum up, for Buddhists, tlie main 
points of moral obHgation. There is really no such 
striking analogy, even superticial analogy, existing be- 
tween Moses and Buddha, as my use of the word deca- 
logue might seeni to imply. Still, as the parallel is 
sometimes assumed, 1 have no objection to adopting it 
hei'e, at least in name. 

In the first place, there is no mention of God in the 
Buddhist decalogue, none indeed anywhere in Buddhist 
literature. And God is not present silently in Buddh- 
ism, any more than he is present there by open men- 
tion. As 1 have said, I say again. Buddhism knows no 
God. In the Buddhist decalogue, therefore, there . is 
nothing whatever to correspond to the " first table" so- 
called of the Mosaic Ten Commandments. 

The Urst one among Buddha's ten prohibitions is of 
the taking of life. Wo life is to be taken. The Mosaic 
prohibition is in form similarly universal and absolute, 
*' Thou shalt not kill." But the Mosaic prohibition is, 
by abundant context, qualified and limited, so that we 
know it relates to the taking of human life only, and 
only to the wrongful taking of human life. Moses was 
a legislator as well as a moralist. Under his code, 
human life might rightfully be taken in penalty for 
crime. Buddlui, on the other hand, was purely a moral 
teacher, lie taught morality under no sense of practical 
responsibility as a civil ruler. Ilis prohibition of the 
taking of life made, therefore, so far as in Mr. Bardy's 
exhibition appears, no allowance for cases of capital pun- 
ishment by process of law. lie prohibited absolutely 
and universally all taking of life, — of human life not 
only, but of animal life of every kind and every degree. 
Under the regis of this indiscriminate prohibition, the 
smallest insect was as safe as the most exalted man — theo- 



AS POETIZER A:N"D AS PAGANIZEU. 133 

retically. (Practically, the moRt exalted man was hardly 
more safe than the smallest insect. This of course exag- 
gerates — as, said here, it also anticipates.) 

What a mild and peaceful world it would be — the 
world that would result from obedience to Buddha ! 
But stay, what about noxious creatures — insects, beasts, 
or reptiles ? These all could hardly be relied upon to 
obey Buddha in his precept against the taking of life, 
and they might even prey upon obedient and therefore 
unresisting, men, women and children. No matter — life 
was not to be taken. After all, then, the world would 
not be quite Eden come again, under such an arrange- 
ment. That I do not misrepresent the Buddhist teach- 
ing on this point, the following illustration, supplied in 
the text itself that accompanies to explain and enforce 
the precept, sufficiently witnesses, ' ' Manual of Budhism," 
p. 480 : 

" In the village of Wadhamana, near Danta, there 
*' was an upasaka who was a husbandman. One of his 
^' oxen having strayed, he ascended a rock that he might 
^' look for it ; but whilst there he was seized by a ser- 
*' pent. lie had a goad in his hand, and his first im- 
^' pulse was to kill the snake ; but he reflected that if he 
" did so he should break the precept that forbids the 
^' taking of life. He therefore resigned himself to 
^^ death, and threw the goad away ; no sooner had he 
'^ done this, than the snake released him from its grasp, 
'^ and he escaped. Thus, by observing the j^recept, his 
^' life was preserved from the most imminent danger." 

T^ow, at first blush it might seem a merely harmless 
Quixotism of benevolence, for a moral teacher to run 
into such extravagances in prohibition of the taking of 



134 EDWIN^ AllNOLD, 

life. But a little rellectioii serves to show that moral 
iiiciilciition wildlj extravag-aiit enough to be manifestly 
impracticable, ceases to be moral, and becomes flagrantly 
innnoral, in tendency. In tendency innnoral, — for my 
remark impugns not the good motive, but only the 
good sense, of Buddha. (If the devil were supposed 
really the moralist — the devil, masking under the per- 
sonality of Buddha — my remark would not impugn Jus 
good sense. The practical Avorking of a moral system 
extravagant to the degree of impossibiHty, would be 
something exactly suited to the devil's thwarting pur- 
pose.) 

The crime of murder may, according to Buddha, be 
'' committed by the body, as when weapons are used ; 
by Avord, as when a superior commands an inferior to 
take life ; or J>y the mind, as when the death of anothep 
is desired. ^^ Is not this last deep-going ? Listen again : 
'' This crime is committed, not only when life is actually 
taken, hut also when there is the indulgence of hatred or 
anger.-^ Does not Buddha, in these expressions, strike 
a note strangely in chord with the profound morality of 
the New Testament ? Assuredly, should one cull and 
sever ont only these, with kindred expressions — they are 
not many — and divsplay them as characteristic and repre- 
sentative of Buddha, the natural effect would be to set 
Buddhism, before readers not otherwise more fully in- 
formed, in an apparent equality of competition with 
Christianity. But now take in connection with these 
searehingly spiritual pronunciations of Buddha, the 
casuistry that in the text where they occur accompanies 
and inter})rcls tliem. Eemeniber too that it is not of 
jiuman murder that they speak, but of the taking of life 
in general. I have given my very closest candid atten- 
tion to that wliole portion of Hardy's chapter, '' The 



AS I'OKTIZFJt AS I) A,S \>\(i A S I'AIAI. 135 

Ethics of Budhism," wlilcli treats of this subject ; and if 
the total resultant tendency of the doctrine l)e not, at 
best, pure nullity as to morals, then 1 am entirely at fault 
in judging of it. At lest, I say, nullity — for at its nat- 
ural worst, the tendency would, I should decide, be 
positively immoral, and immoral in the highest degree. 
But my readers shall see and decide for themselves (p. 
47'J) : 

'^ If the person who is -killed is the person who was 
*^ intended to be slain, the crime of murder has been 
'^ committed ; but if it is intended to take the life of a 
^^ particular person, by throwing a dart, or javelin, and 
*' the weapon kill another, it is not murder. If it is in- 
^' tended to take life, though not the life of any partic- 
^^ular person, and life be taken, it is murder. When a 
'^ blow is given with the intention of taking life, whether 
*' the person who is struck die at that time or afterwards, 
'Mt is murder. 

'^ When a command is given to take the life of a par- 
'' ticular person, and that person is killed, it is murder ; 
'^ but if another person be killed instead, it is not 
*' murder. When a command is given to take the life 
'^ of a person at a particular time, whether in the morn- 
'^ ing or in the evening, in the night or in the day, and 
'^ he be killed at the time appointed, it is murder ; but 
^^ if lie be killed at some other time, and not at the time 
'^ appointed, it is not murder. When a command is 
*^ given to take the life of a person at a particular place, 
'^ whether it be in the village, or city, or desert, on land, 
^^ or on water, and he be killed at the place appointed, 
*Mt is murder ; but if he be killed at some other place, 
^* and not at the place appointed, it is not murder. 
*' When a command is given to take the life of a person 



136 EDWIX ARNOLD, 

*' in a particular position, whether it be walking, stand- 
^'' ing, sitting, or lying down, and he be killed whilst in 
'' the position appointed, it is murder ; but if he be 
^' killed whilst in some other position, and not in the 
'' position appointed, it is not murder. "When a com- 
'' mand is given to take the life of a person by a par- 
" ticular weapon, whether it be sword or sjDear, and he 
" be killed by the w^eapon appointed, it is murdei* ; but 
" if he be killed by some other weapon, and not by the 
'^ weapon ajipointed, it is not murder." 

N"ow, maturely consider the foregoing. Observe how 
the severely high saying that murder is committed * ' when 
the death of another h desired,^'^ must be joined with, 
^' If it is intended to take the life of a particular person 
... and the weapon kill another, it is not murder" — 
also with, " To constitute the crime of taking life . . . 
the life must be actually taken" (said elsewhere in close 
connection) — observe, I say, these confusing inconsisten- 
cies and contradictions jumbled inextricably together, 
and, tell me, what wholesome binding force for the 
conscience is left inhering in the doctrine ? Then, since 
to constitute the crime of murder, there must be con- 
curring of time, place, posture, circumstance, exactly as 
preconceived and predetermined by the person intend- 
ing the crime, wliat loophole, 1 ask, of escape from 
murderer's guilt could be desired by a murderer, that is 
not here abundantly provided ? Dull of wit, indeed, 
would the murderer be who, under such provisions as 
these, could not accomplish his murderous design with- 
out incurring the guilt of a murderer. I submit that 
the logical, the inevitable, practical result of such 
morality would be immeasurably to cheapen human life. 
This from antecedent probability inhering in the nature 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 137 

of the case, and without reference to the historical facts 
bearing on the point ; but the historical facts most im- 
pressively agree. China is largely a Bnddhist country ; 
and where is human life so abominably, so unutterably, 
cheap and vile as in China ? 

Thoughtful readers will not fail to perceive, in the 
melancholy casuistical hypotheses and determinations that 
thus conspire to make void the Buddhist precept against 
inurder, a strange parallel — by anticipation — for Jesuit- 
ism. 

T\\Q freaJcishness of Buddhist ethics is by no means a 
harmless trait. It is in fact almost as confusing and de- 
moralizing as are the more positive faults of the system. 
Take for example this (p. 478) : 

''When the life of a man is taken, the demerit in- 
'' creases in proportion to the merit of the person slain ; 
''hut he who slays a cruel inan has greater demerit than 
^' he icho slays a man of a hind disjyositioti.'''' 

I have by no means fully represented, nay, I have not 
even at all adequately hinted, the foolishness of casuistry 
to which Buddhism condescends. " Condescends," I 
have said, but " condescends" is not the proper word to 
describe the relation held by Buddhism, as a total system, 
toward the wretched casuistry of Buddhist ethics. The 
relation is rather that of natural level between the one and 
the other. The casuistry suits exactly the trifling char- 
acter of the system taken as a whole. This trifling char- 
acter I am aware that I have not certified to the reader 
b}^ suflBcient citations. The sole reason for this default 
on my part has been a consideration of mercy toward 
the reader. To do justice to the topic by citations 
would involve the transfer to these pages of an intoler- 



138 EDWIK ARNOLD, 

able mass of grotesque, but unamusing, frivolity, be- 
yond the power of the Occidental imagination, without 
dreary experience of it, to conceive. It was simply and 
peremptorily impossible to imdertake an exhibition, in 
anything like its own redundant volume, of this element 
in Buddhism. The reader must take it on trust. Ke- 
fusal so to take it would be severely punished by 
coercion to go through the j^roof that might be intermi- 
nably submitted. I repeat, that the sorry, and often 
worse than sorry, casuistry of Buddhist ethics is only 
in too good keeping with the mocking and cheating 
essential character of Buddhism as a system. 

Extraordinary is the contrast at this point between 
Buddhism and Christianity. Buddha vrould seem to 
liave delighted in being drawn out, whether by disciple 
or by adversary, into trains of casuistical and so^jhistical 
refining. The firm refraining and refusing, of Christ 
and of his apostles, to yield to temptations of this sort, 
whether the temptations proceeded from within or from 
without, might escape our admiration but for the foil 
of contrast presented in false religious teachers like 
Buddha. 

There were not wanting occasions to Jesus. The 
Samaritan woman who met him at tlie well evidently 
sought to draw the Jewish stranger into a wrangle of 
words. Jesus dechned the challenge by holding her 
firmly to the point that she found so disturbing to her 
own peace of conscience. 1 will not deny nor ignore that 
Buddha himself seemed sometimes to know how to be 
wisely reticent. But Jesus never, the apostles — after 
being inspired — never, forgot themselves. " How often 
shall we forgive V asked they once of their Master. 
What a tempting opportunity for supposing cases, for 
drawing distinctions, for introducing qualifications ! 



AS POETTZER AND AS PAGAJs^IZER. 139 

''Till seven times?" asked Peter, drawing, as he 
evidently tliouglit, a very long bow. " I say not until 
seven times, but until seventy times seven," was the 
answer that estopped question, and left the teaching 
solidly stronger than before. '' Shall we give tribute to 
Csesar ?" "Render unto Cj^esar the things that arc 
CiEsar's, and to God the things that are God's." How 
different this in moral impression from wire-drawing 
casuistry ! ' ' Who is my neighbor ?" asked of J esus certain 
who thus sought escape from the inevitable application 
to themselves of an unwelcome teaching of his. No nice 
definitions did Jesus vouchsafe. With parable instead, 
he taught that, for purposes of moral obligation, any one 
was your neighbor whom you had it in your power to 
serve. Now, consider that this Syrian teacher was but a 
young man, with little experience of life and less com- 
munion of books, (apart from the Old Testament), to 
make him wise, and how do you account for it that such 
a difference stretches between him and Buddha, the two 
being compared as to their moral wisdom and as to their 
power of inliiiencing the world ? What made that in- 
experienced young Syrian, author of no book, holder of 
no political, no social, position, doer of no remarkable 
deed (his miracles being set aside), simply speaker of 
chance words dropped here and there to people that did 
not understand them, that would not report them, that 
could not report them, or that could only misreport them 
— what, 1 ask, made this young Syrian, who summed up 
in three short years his whole life before the public, 
closing it with an ignominious death — what made Jesus 
the lord of the world, the lord of the foremost part of the 
world, that he has been ? Was it that he was but such 
another as the mythical Buddha ? 

This v/anders. Let us return. We were observing 



140 EDWIK ARNOLD, 

the absence of casuistry in tlic ethics of Christianity, as 
contrasted with the presence, and abundance, and mis- 
chievous character, of casuistry in Buddhism. Christian 
morality at least does not confuse itself, defeat itself, 
first with absurd exaggerations, and then with absurd 
extenuations, of requirement, or perhaps with subtle 
qualifying clauses ; and this, as has been seen, in its 
article on life-taking, and as I am about to show, in its 
article on lying, Buddhism undeniably does. 

Such as I have shown it, then, seen partially indeed, 
Init seen truly in its own light, is the vaunted morality 
of Buddhism. Buddha's precept against killing forms 
an important portion of " that wisdom which," as Mr. 
Arnold's Buddhist votary could say, '^ hath made our 
Asia mild !" Asiatic " mildness !" The pages of 
history, ancient and modern alike, furnish what a com- 
mentary on that word in that combination ! I do not 
pretend, 1 do not, for my argument, need to pretend, 
that as matter of cause and effect Buddhism produced 
Asiatic " mildness." But I submit that to such a cause 
it logically belonged to produce such an effect. 

There is another trait of Asiatic and specifically of 
Hindu character, not less distinctive than its " mild- 
ness." If the Hindu is '^ mild," he is, also and equally, 
truth-loving and truth-telling. To drop our sad irony, the 
Hindus are reputed to be in character both cruel and de- 
ceitful. We have already examined Buddhist morality in 
its relation to crime against life. Let us proceed to ex- 
amine it in its relation to crime against truth. We shall 
find here somewhat the same mingled character of good 
and bad, of bad defeating the good, bad turning the 
good into its own nature, as was observable in the Buddh- 
ist teaching on murder. First, however, perhaps my 
readers ought to see what sanctions in the way of prom- 



AS POETIZER AKD AS PAGANIZED, 14-1 

ised reward, Buddha propounds, to secure obedience of 
the precept respecting the taking of life (p. 482) : 

^' He who keeps the precept which forbids the taking 
^' of life will be thus rewarded : — He will afterwards be 
^' born with all his members perfect ; he will be tall and 
^' strong, and put his feet lirmlj to the ground when he 
^^ walks ; he will have a handsome person, a soft and clear 
'' skin, and be fluent in speech ; he will have the respect 
'' of his servants and friends ; he will be courageous, 
'^ none having the power to withstand him ; he v/ill not 
'^ die by the stratagem of another ; he will have a large 
*' retinue, good health, a robust constitution, and enjoy 
^' long life." 

Lying is forbidden in Buddhist ethics. The following 
explanation is added : 

'' Four things are necessary to constitute a lie : 
^' 1. There must be the utterance of the thing that is 
" not. 2. There must be the knowledge that it is not. 
'' 3. There must be some endeavor to prevent the person 
'' addressed from learning the truth. 4. The?'e must he 
'' the discovery ly the 'person deceived that what has heen 
''told him is not z'n^^."— Hardy's "Manual of Budh- 
ism," p. 48G. 

I have italicized the pregnant particular that closes the 
series of four things mentioned as necessary to constitute 
a lie. What do my readers say to it ? 1 do not wonder 
that Mr. Hardy felt it necessary to support himself in his 
translation by giving in connection, for comparison by 
Singhalese scholars, the original phrase that expressed so 
incredible a sentiment. Dr. Ehys Davids, in his com- 



142 ED\YiN ak:nold, 

pact and summary compend of Buddhism, having stated 
the bare j)recepts of morality inculcated by the system, 
remarks that the precepts are accompanied with such 
comments and explanations as moralists usually add to 
their injunctions ! It would seem that his vigilance 
must have winked, when he read the monstrous state- 
ment foregoing that 1 have italicized. And that state- 
ment has curiously escaped the attention of every admir- 
ing writer on comparative religion that 1 have found 
praising the exalted morality of Buddhism. Look at the 
statement again, and yet again. Ponder it w^ell, and see 
if the gist of the matter be not this : You must not lie, 
but if you lie w^ell enough not to be found out, you have 
not lied ! Who is there, pray, that lies expecting to be 
found out ? A premium is here put, not upon telling the 
truth, but upon lying expertly. It is like the case of the 
Spartan boys brought up to steal, and to think stealing 
disgraceful only when found out. I ask now, what 
would be the natural, the legitimate, the inevitable, ten- 
dency of such doctrine on the subject of lying ? Would 
it not be to produce a race of liars ? That in fact the 
Hindus are a race of liars, it is not mine to assert. 1 
have no 23ersonal knowledge. That they have the repu- 
tation of being such, is as well known as is anything else 
whatever respecting the Hindus. I beg to have it stead- 
ily borne in mind that I charge upon no particular man, 
certainly not upon Gautama Buddha, the origination of 
the foregoing monstrous doctrine about vv^hat is necessary 
to constitute a lie. The doctrine may not be the doctrine 
of Buddha, but it is the doctrine of Buddhism ; and I in- 
sist that on Buddhism its own proper responsibility shall 
abide. That is an inseparable part of Buddhist morality. 
Let Buddhist morality swim, if it can, with such a mill- 
stone tied, in a knot that none will untie, about its neck. 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 14:3 

But the doctrine revolts so ; it is almost impossible to 
believe it ever vv^as taught. Is there not some possible ex- 
planation of the text that will avoid the doctrine ? May 
not the text mean only, You must not imjnde a lie, un- 
less you are sure f 1 answer, That is a violently improb- 
able interpretation to put upon the language employed. 
To me it seems an entirely inadmissible interpretation. 
But, even let it be admitted, the pernicious practical re- 
sult of the teaching Vv^ould still be the same ; for the more 
natural interpretation would be certain to prevail. And 
1 am dealing throughout with the moral tendency of a 
system, not v/ith the moral purpose of a man. 

"Would my readers like to see what inducements 
Buddha held out to disciples to secure their heed of his 
precept against lying ? Here they are. It wall be ob- 
served that they chiefly respect personal appearance. 
Opinions will probably vary as to the degree of per- 
suasive effect to be justly expected from the rewards 
thus annexed to truth-telling. The rewards would have 
to operate against heavy counter inducements. There 
would be, in a case of temptation to depart from the truth, 
first the obvious present advantages to be hoped for from 
successful lying. There would then be joined the con- 
sideration, that in case the lie were successful, there 
would in fact be no lie at all. Again, unquestionably 
there would be the sceptical doubt in many minds 
whether the rewards promised were altogether as certain 
as they were desirable. But see here the rewards, such 
as they are (p. 488) : 

^' He who keeps the precept that forbids the uttering 
^^ of that which is not true will in future births have all 
*' his senses perfect, a sweet voice, and teeth of a proper 
'^ size, regular and clean ; he will not be thin, nor too 



144 EDWIN ARNOLD. 

" tall nor too short ; his skin will smell like the lotus ; 

*Mie wdll have obedient servants and his word will be 
a 



believed ; he will have blue ejes, like the petal of 
the nelnm, and a tongue red and soft like the petal of 
the piyum ; and he will not be proud, though his 
situation will be exalted." 



Would you look with high confidence to see a race of 
truth-tellers bred on such moral teaching accompanied 
with such sanctions ? "Would you not, on the whole, 
have more hope from the ''Lie not one to another," 
'' Speak every man truth with his neighbor," of Paul, 
backed uj) with wholesome '' terrors of the Lord," such 
as, ^' Liars shall have their portion in the lake that 
burnetii with tire and brimstone" ? Historically, have 
not the results, under the latter influence, been better ? 



I EEACH a point at which I find myself extremely em- 
barrassed. 1 am very loath to appear in the character 
of an evil speaker against a great mass of my fellow- 
creatures. Certainly I bear no ill-will against my 
brethren, the Hindus. I wish them only well. 1 wish 
them well to the extent of wishing tliem rid of every- 
thing wrong in their character. They are no longer 
Buddhists now. But they have exchanged Buddhism 
for what is equally bad, Brahmanism — equally bad or 
v/orse. They need Christianity. I am for giving them 
Christianity. 1 should like myself to exemplify and 
recommend Christianity in my manner of speaking of 
the Hindus here. How shall I do this ? By sj^eaking 
the truth, and speaking it in love, is the express reply of 
Christianity itself. I will try to speak the truth, and I 
will promise to speak it in love. 

It is not then, as I believe, the truth, to say, with Mr. 
Edwin Arnold, of the Hindus, that their ''most char- 
acteristic" traits are due to the "benign influence" of 
Buddhism, or to any " benign" influence whatever. 
The Hindus, like the rest of mankind, apart from the 
regenerating power of CHiristianity, are a depraved and 
wicked race. I do not say, I do not suppose, they are 
naturally more depraved and wicked than their brethren 
of other races. But they are not less so. The particular 
forms of their depravity and wickedness are perhaps 
different ; but wliatever the difference, as it is not 
against them, so also it is not in their favor. 



146 EDWIN AET!^OLD, 

I say, the most cliaracteristic traits of the Hindus are 
not due to the '^ benign influence" of Buddhism. They 
may not be due to any influence at all of Buddhism. 
Buddhism maybe the product, rather than the producing 
cause, in the case. Buddhism very likely reflected the 
'' most cliaracteristic" traits of the Hindus, more than it 
created those traits. But at any rate there is a remark- 
able correspondence between the ^^ most characteristic" 
Hindu traits and Buddhism. 

If any average person of intelligence were asked to 
name two traits of national character attaching by 
eminence to the Plindus, he would, I suppose, not hesi- 
tate a moment to say, as I have myself already virtually 
said. Deceit and cruelty. If further asked to give his 
authority, he might be less prompt with his answer. He 
might be reduced to answer, Common fame. That 
authorit}^ shall not be permitted to do for us here. We 
will demand in the way of testimony something more 
solid than common fame. 

The great work on the history of India, British India, 
is Tiearly seventy years old. The fact t'hat, though thus 
old in date, and though challenged by numerous more 
recent competitors, it still keeps the field against tliem 
all as the standard v\'ork on the subject, sufficiently 
attests its high character. The author was James Mill, 
father to John Stuart Mill, but a man of much larger 
calibre than his more freshly famous, though not more 
famons, son. James Mill was a free spirit, not a Chris- 
tian, indeed a foe to Christianity, but for all that a man 
of high moral tone. While undoubtedly, on topics that 
engaged his moral sentiments, he wrote with some heat, 
he was truthful in aim, and he took great pains to be 
true in fact. I have examined with some care the long 
eliapter in his History, in which Mill describes the Hindu 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 147 

character. It is a dreadful indictment against the 
Indian race. Mill writes from personal knowledge, for 
he was a long time in India, but he supports his indict- 
ment with ample confirmatory evidence from many 
different authorities. However, in order that what Mill 
says may be seen under a light the most favorable to the 
Hindus, 1 introduce it here, not directly from his own 
pages, but from the pages of Monier "Williams's '' India 
and the Indians," p. 358, where it stands prefaced with 
a protest from this later and less passionate writer : 

'' The great historian Mill, whose ^ History of India ' 
is still a standard work, has done infinite harm by his 
mijustifiable blackening of the Indian national character. 
He has declared (I quote various statements scattered 
through his work) that ^ the superior castes in India are 
generally depraved, and capable of every fraud and 
villainy ; that they more than despise their inferiors, 
whom they kill with less scruple than we do a fowl ; that 
the inferior castes are profligate, guilty on the slightest 
occasion of the greatest crimes, and degraded infinitely 
below the brutes ; that the Hindus in general are devoid 
of every moral and religious principle ; cunning and 
deceitful, addicted to adulation, dissimulation, deception, 
dishonesty, falsehood, and perjury ; disposed to hatred, 
revenge, and cruelty ; indulging in furious and malig- 
nant passions, fostered by the gloomy and malignant 
principles ; perpetrating villainy with cool reflection ; 
indolent to the point of thinking death and extinction 
the happiest of all states ; avaricious, litigious, insensible 
to the sufferings of others, inhospitable, cowardly ; con- 
temptuous and harsh to their women, whom they treat as 
plaves ; eminently devoid of filial, parental, and conjugal 
aft'ection.' *' 



148 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

Such is James Mill's judgment of the Hindu char- 
acter. The point on whicli he thus pronounces is, how- 
ever, an interesting one, and important. Some further 
attention to it may serve to throw a needed light upon 
the trustworthiness of Mr. Arnold as guide to correct 
views of the subject which, in his poem, he undertakes 
to treat. I therefore add here one or two extracts from 
other sources of information. 

Spry, in his " Modern India," vol. 2, p. 4, holds the 
followinfi: lano^uac^e : 

'^ I next proceed to offer some remarks on the present 
condition of the national character ; and, bad as every 
one must allow it to be, 1 do not consider it deserving 
that unqualified censure which has been so lavishly 
heaped upon it. With every respect for the authority 
of so great a name as Mill, I. must say, that the conduct 
which has given occasion for the severity of liis remarks, 
is not so much attributable, as he would lead us to sup- 
j^ose, to the inherent bad (jualities of the mind of the 
people themselves, as to the selfish and unhealthy form 
of government under which they have been nurtured." 

Spry further tells us, that '' in a more favorable state 
of the human mind, that large portion of the field of 
action which it is impossible to reach with the terrors of 
the law, is protected by the sentiments of the people 
themselves ; but in India there is no moral character. 
Sympathy and antipathy are distributed by religions, not 
by moral, judgment. Ignorance, and its concomitant, 
gross superstition, an implicit faith in the efficacy of 
prayers, charms, and magic ; selfishness, low cunning, 
litigiousness, avarice, revenge, disregard for truth, and 
indolence^ are the principal features to be traced." 



AS POETIZEK AND AS PAGAN IZER. 149 

"William Ward was one of that immortal triumvirate, 
Carey, Marsliman, and Ward, who began the modern 
era of missions. He spent nearly a quarter of a century 
in immediate contact with the j^eople of India, and he 
thus speaks of them : 

'' The Kev. Mr. Maurice seems astonished that a 
people, so mild, so benevolent, so benignant as the 
Hindoos, ' who (quoting Mr. Orme) shudder at the very 
sight of Uood,'&ho\M\s,Ye adopted so many bloody 
rites. But are these Hindoos indeed so humane ?— these 
men, and women too, who drag their dying relations to 
the banks of the river at all seasons, day and night, and 
expose them to the heat and cold in the last agonies of 
death, without remorse ;— who assist men to commit self- 
murder, encouraging them to swing with hooks in their 
backs, to pierce their tongues and sides, to cast them- 
selves on naked knives, to bury themselves alive, throw 
themselves into rivers, from precipices, and. under the 
cars of their idols ;— who murder their own children, by 
burying them alive, tlirowing them to the alligators, or 
hanging them up alive in trees for the ants and crows 
before their own doors, or by sacrificing them to the 
Ganges ; who burn alive, amidst savage shouts, the heart- 
broken widow, by the hands of her own son, and with 
the corpse of a deceased father ;— who every year butcher 
thousands of animals, nt the call of superstition, covering 
themselves with their blood, consigning their carcases to 
the dogs, and carrying their heads in triumph through 
the streets ?— Are tliese ' the benignant Hindoos ' ?— a 
people who have never erected a charity school, an 
almshouse, nor an hospital ; who suffer their fellow- 
creatures to perish for want before their very doors, re- 
fusino- to administer to their wants while hving, or to 



150 EDWINT ARNOLD, 

inter their bodies, to prevent tlieir being devoured l)y 
vultures and jackals, when dead ; who, when the power 
of the sword Vv^as in their hands, impaled alive, cut off the 
noses, the legs, and arms of culprits ; and inflicted 
punishments exceeded only by those of the followers of 
tlie mild, amiable, and benevolent Boodhu, in the 
Burman empire ! and who, very often, in their acts of 
pillage, murder the plundered, cutting off their limbs 
with the most cold-blooded apathy, turning the house of 
the murdered into a disgusting shambles !— Some of 
these cruelties, no doubt, arise out of the religion of the 
Hindoos, and are the poisoned fruits of superstition, 
rather than the effects of natural disposition ; but this is 
.equally true respecting the virtues which have been so 
lavishly bestowed on tliis people. At the call of the 
shastru, the Hindoo gives water to the weary traveller 
during the month Yoishakiiu ; but he may perish at his 
door wdtliout pity or relief from the first of the following 
month, no reward being attached to such an act after 
these thirty days have expired. He will make weeds, 
pools of w^ater, and build lodging-houses for pilgrims and 
travellers ; but he considers himself as making a good 
bargain with the gods in all these transactions. It is a 
fact, that there is not a road in the country made by 
Hindoos except a few which lead to holy places ; and 
had there been no future rewards held out for such acts 
of merit, even these would not have existed. Before 
the kulee-yoogu it was lawful to sacrifice cows ; but the 
man who does it now is guilty of a crime as heinous as 
that of killing a braurhun : he may kill a buffalo, how- 
ever, and Doorga w^ill reward liim with heaven for it. 
A Hindoo, by any direct act, should not destroy an in- 
sect, for he is taught that God inhabits even a fly ; but 
it is no great crime if he should permit even his cow to 



AS POETIZER AKD AS PAGANIZER. 151 

perish with hunger ; and lie beats it without mercj, 
though it be an incarnation of Bhuguvutee — it is enough, 
that he does not really deprive it of life ; for the in- 
dwelling Brumhu feels no stroke but that of death. 
The Hindoo will utter falsehood that would knock down 
an ox, and will commit perjuries so atrocious and dis- 
gusting, as to fill with horror those who visit the courts 
of justice ; but he will not violate his shastru by swear- 
ing on the waters of the Ganges." 

The Duke of Wellington,^' truth-lover," '^ who never 
spoke against a foe," is quoted as saying of the Hindus 
('^ Supplementary Despatches," 1797-1805) : '' They are 
the most deceitful, mischievous race of people that 1 have 
ever seen or heard of. 1 have not yet met with a Hindu 
who had one good quality." 

I repeat that I, of course, on the subject of Hindu 
character, know nothing at all of my own personal 
Ivuowledge. Anxious, however, not to misrepresent, I 
have carefully considered what Professor Max Miiller in 
his ''India: What Can it Teach Us?" under title 
" Truthful Character of the Hindus," is able, as advo- 
cate, to say on behalf of clients believed by him to 
be so unjustly accused. Professor Miiller has produced 
an elaborate piece of special pleading ; but he has not, 
so it seems to me, materially changed the state of 
the evidence. However, it is not the Hindu national 
character that I am principally examining. Whether the 
reputation borne by the Hindus for lying be deserved or 
not, matters little to my main contention. All I need to 
say is that if, on the one hand, they did indeed become 
the liars they are generally and, as 1 believe, justly re- 
puted to be, that result was but the quite natural fruit of 



153 EDWIK AllNOLD. 

Buddhist tcacliiiig on this central point in morals ; and 
if, on the other hand, they remained steadily truthful, it 
was in spite of ethical doctrine directly tending to make 
them false. Buddhism has been tried before us here, by- 
its own words, and on this subject been found fatally 
wanting. It is, 1 think, tolerably clear that there re- 
mains reason enough for Christians to try to christianize 
the countries in which Buddhism prevails. Buddhism, 
during tlie centuries of its sway in India, did not perma- 
nently make the inhabitants of that region quite all that 
they ought to be. Buddhism is not making very rapid 
progress in regenerating the peoples of China, Japan, 
and Ceylon. Buddhism, in short, is not, after all, what 
its enthusiastic advocates represent it, namely, something 
about as good as Christianity, possibly even a little 
better. The missionary motive, for the case of Buddh- 
ists, is not yet exhausted for Christians. We shall still 
have to take up missionary collections, observe missionary 
concerts of prayer, despatch and sustain missionaries for 
carrying the Gospel of Christ to Buddhist lands. (I hope, 
by the way, that the missionaries we send will be men 
themselves brought up, in our divinity schools, on the 
Gospel of Christ, and not on Comparative Religion.) 



YI. 



We liave now sunk shafts into the heart of Buddhism 
at two vital points of the system — with what product 
resulting, we have all of us seen. It is remarkably easy 
to plunge into the fog of Hindu cosmogony, Hindu 
ontology, Hindu theosophy, Hindu mythology, and lose 
our way, — ^perhaps lose our head too as well as our way, 
witness, for instance, that curious phenomenon, the book 
entitled "Esoteric Buddhism," of which more here- 
after. But there need be no such trouble experienced 
in striking a short path, here or there, into Hindu ethics. 
This, holding our Christian gospel clue fast in hand, we 
have already twice done, and got safe back to open day 
again. There is really no need of ex]:)loring further. A 
morality found forbidding murder indeed, but forbid- 
ding murder in such a way as offers immunity for mur- 
der, forbidding falsehood, but forbidding falsehood in 
such a way as sets a premium on skilful falsehood, is 
already sufficiently judged. Such a morality as that, no 
excellence in any other point, or in any number of otlier 
points, can possibly redeem. It is, by these faults alone, 
proved to be of the earth, earthy — worse, of the devil, 
devilish. Argument on the subject is precluded. The 
first step is the last step in any logical process you under- 
take about it. Indeed, you cannot undertake any logical 
process about it. You simply damn such morality out 
of hand, damn it w^ith an instantaneous eruptive male- 
diction vented from your Christian moral sense. And 
there is an end of it. 



154 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

Still, tliere is another point in morals, both so vital in 
itself, and so central in Mr. Arnold's misrepresentation 
of Buddhism, that I think we had better at that point 
make one assay more of the moral quality belonging to 
this great system of superstition. The point in question 
concerns the mutual relation of the sexes. 

" Toiicli not thy neighbor's wife, neither commit 
Sins of the tlesh unlawful and unfit," 

is Mr. Arnold's version of the Buddhist precept now to 
be considered. (The form which the prece])t assumes 
under Mr. Arnold's fatal hand is worth noting. Is the 
meaning, Do not commit such " sins of the flesh " as are 
*^ unlawful (rr?ifZ unfit " — with the implication that such 
''sins of the flesh" as have not the misfortune to be '' un- 
lawful and unfit " may be committed ? Or is the mean- 
ing, Do not commit ''sins of the flesh," for these are 
" unlawful and unfit " — with the imphcation that sins not 
" of the flesh" maybe committed ? Or wliai is the mean- 
ing?) The original form, translated by Mr. Hardy, is 
both less comprehensive and less summary, " Manual of 
Budhism," p. 484 : 

" When any one approaches a woman that is under 
" the protection of another, v/hether it be her father, 
" if her mother be dead ; or her mother, if her father 
^' be dead ; or both parents ; or her brother, sister, or 
'' other relative of cither parent ; or the person to whom 
" she has been betrothed : the precept is broken that 
" forbids illicit intercourse with the sex. Whosoever 
*' does this will be disgraced by the prince ; he will 
" have to pay a fine, or be placed in some mean situa- 
" tion, or have a garland of flowers put in derision 
'' about his neck. 



AS POETIZrJi AXD AS PAGAXIZER. lof) 

" There are twenty-one descriptions of women wliom 
^ it is forbidden to approach. Among them are, a 
^ woman protected by her relatives ; or bought with 
' money ; or who is cohabiting with another of her own 
' free will ; or works for another person for wages, 
' thongh she is not a slave ; or who is betrothed ; or a 
^ slave living with her owner ; or working m her own 
^ house ; or taken as a spoil in war. All these are to be 
' regarded as the property of another, and are therefore 
' not to be approached. 

" When any one approaches a female who is the j^ro])- 
^ erty of another, with the intent to commit evil, and 
' practises some deception to gain his end, and accom- 
' plishes his purpose, he transgresses against the 
' precept. 

'^ Four things are necessary to constitute this crime : 
^ — 1. There must be some one that it is unlawful to 
' approach. 2. There must be the evil intention. 3. 
' There must be some act or effort to carry the intention 
' into effect, d. There must be the accomphshment of 
' the intention. 

'' The magnitude of this offence increases in propor- 
^ tion to the merit of the woman's ^^rotector ; and when 
' she has no protector, in proportion to her own merit. ^' 

This, on exa^mination, will not, to the considerate 
moralist, prove very satisfactory. " Thou shalt not 
commit adultery," '^ Flee fornication," are better.' 
Observe : the principal and direct part of the Buddhist 
precept seems to concern exclusively " a woman who is 
under the protection of another." Only by inference, 
in a subsequent clause incidentally introduced, is the 
prohibition haltingly extended to a woman having " no 
protector." The offence is graduated in magnitude ac- 



150 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

cording to the '' merit" of tlie person trespassed against, 
wliicli person, let it be noted, is not the woman lierself, 
save in tlie exceptional case of her being a woman with- 
out protector. '' There are twenty-one descriptions of 
women" not to be approached. A principle of prohibi- 
tion how vicious, to undertake enumeration of classes of 
women not to be approached ! Women outside of the 
enumeration would of course be understood to be outside 
of the application of the precept. '' All these [the 
enumerated classes] are to be regarded as the property 
of another, and are therefore not to be approached." 
'' Therefore !" To constitute the crime forbidden, there 
''must be the evil intention," an^Z "the accomplish- 
ment of the intention." "Whosoever looketU uj^on a 
woman to lust after her, liatli committed adultery with 
her already in his heart," was the condemnation jDro- 
nounced by Jesus. No " accomphshment of the inten- 
tion" was necessary to constitute the crime in Ills sight. 
One fruit of the late truly curious develo23ment among 
us Westerns of public interest in Buddhism, has been a 
" Popular Life of Buddha," handsomely issued in Eng- 
land. The author is a vehement champion of his sub- 
ject and hero. Among the notable things urged by 
him in Buddha's favor, he claims that Buddha raised 
woman to peership with man. Does the foregoing 
precept read like it ? " Property of another," yet that 
other's equal? "Women are hasty, they are given to 
" quarrel, they exercise hatred, and are full of evil," is a 
general sentence, in a kind of obiter dictum, on the sex, 
delivered elsewhere by Buddha. Mr. Hardy gives it in 
his "Eastern Monachism," p. 159. Along with the 
preceding hard expression from Buddha about woman as 
woman, Mr. Hardy, on the same page of the same work, 
cites a further utterance of the great teacher, bearing on 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAITIZER. 157 

this subject. Buddha is legislating for his scheme of 
monasteries : 






The female recluse, though she be a hundred years 
old, when she sees a samanera novice, though he be 
" only eight years old and just received, shall be obliged 
^' to rise from her seat when she perceives him in the 
" distance ; go toward him, and offer him worship." 

With that, contrast Paul's instruction to Timothy : 

'^ Rebuke not an elder, but entreat him as a father ; 
and the younger men as brethren ; the elder icomen as 
raothers / the younger as sisters^ with all purity." 

What a difference of tone ! And take this appeal from 
the same apostle to the same young preacher : 

'^ I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in 
thee, which dwelt first in thy grandraother Lois, and thy 
mother Eunice. ^"^ 

To which, to Buddhism, or to Christianity, does 
modern woman owe her debt ? Eecall, further, from a 
page foregoing, the adv^antage promised in Buddhism to 
the Bodhisat, that he shall never l>e lorn a female. 
Does that put dignity upon the woman ? 

Harsh measure certainly toward woman we have found 
dealt out by the great pagan equalizer of woman and 
man. But we have not yet found his harshest : 

^' Any woman whatever," said Buddha, ^' Eastern 
Monachism," p. 160, "if she have a proper opportu- 
" nity, and can doit in secret, and be enticed thereto, will 



158 EDWIN AR]N"OLD, 

''do tliat wliicli is wrong, however ugly tlie paramour 
"may be." 

Hovf do these things sort with the representation of 
Buddha given lis by Mr. Arnold in the " Light of 
Asia" ? 

Undoubtedly there are many things said by Buddha to 
indicate his estimate of woman, less ungracious than 
those which have now been presented. But these latter 
stand ; and what do they imply ? Let me, however, 
be justly sensitive to the demands of fairness in the case, 
and redress the balance of my presentation. Here 
is what Buddha lays down for instruction to the husband 
concerning his duty to his wife. 1 draw again from 
Hardy's chapter entitled " Ethics of Budhism" ('' Man- 
ual," p. 498) : 

'^ There are five ways in which the husband ought to 
" assist the wife : — 1. He must S2:)eak to her pleasantly, 
"and say to her, Mother, I will present you with gar- 
" ments, perfumes, and ornaments. 2. He must speak to 
" lier respectfully, not using low words such as lie would 
" use to a servant or slave. 3. He must not leave the 
" woman whom he possesses by giving to her clothes, 
" ornaments, etc., and go to a woman who is kej^t by an- 
" other. 4. H she does not receive a proper allowance of 
" food she will become angry; therefore she must be prop- 
" erly provided for, that this may be prevented. 5. He 
"must give her ornaments, and other similar articles, 
" according to his ability." 

This seems kindly conceived ; but the kindness incul- 
cated is tlie kindness of self-respect and condescension 
yielded as from a conscious superior. The instruction 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 159 

rather denies, than implies, a dignity in woman equal 
with the dignity of man. How well wonld it satisfy the 
jnst wish, as to regard dne from her husband, of a wife 
educated in Christian ideas ? In the long run of history, 
would such an ideal of the conjugal relation be likely to 
give woman her place side by side with man as his equal 
partner in life ? Would it build Wellesley College for 
women ? Would it tend to produce a poem like ' ^ The 
Princess," for example, of Tennyson ? Would it go to- 
ward yielding us a Mrs. Browning ? In one word, is it 
Christian — or, if not identically Christian, still something 
else as good, possibly better ? '^ Husbands, love your 
wives and be not bitter against them," was Paul's word. 
Would the author of that word, would Paul, have been 
capable of saying, like Buddha, and with Buddha's im- 
plication against his own mother's sex, ''Any woman 
^ohatever will do that which is wrong' ' ? Was that said 
by Buddha — and yet did Buddha love his wife, as in the 
'* Light of Asia" Mr. Arnold represents him to have 
loved her ? The contradiction in thought is monstrous, 
abhorrent. '' Any woman whatever'^ — and Buddha the 
son of a woman, the husband of a woman ! 

In truth, here too, Mr. Arnold, according to that fatal 
habit of his mind, which vitiates all his imaginative 
work, has incorporated inseparably into the '' Light of 
Asia," as a whole, ideas that repel each other with abso- 
lutely implacable mutual repugnance. He has made 
Buddha at the same time love Yasodhara with Christian 
love, and treat Yasodhara with pagan cruelty. '' The 
Great Kenunciation" is Mr. Arnold's alternative title for 
his poem. The great renunciation meant is Buddha's, 
and it consisted in his abandoning all for the sake of be- 
coming an ascetic to save, first, himself, and then the 
world. His abandoning of all included his abandoning 



160 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

of Yasodhara his wife. This particular abandonment in- 
deed is made by Mr. Arnold to be the capital point of 
tlie whole great act. And abandon Yasodhara Bnddha 
did. It was a bald, outright abandonment. He left her 
clandestinely in the night. He bade no good-bye. He 
might have taken her into the confidence of his plan, and 
invited her to share with him the great renunciation. 
She was worthy of this treatment, — according to Mr. 
Arnold, if not according to the legend. But no. He 
simply ran away from her. His heart tugged at him in 
the doing of this deed of hardness toward his wife. So 
Mr. Arnold represents — though the legends say nothing 
of this. But he forsook her and fled — -this blameless 
prince of Mr. Arnold's ideal, " the highest, gentlest, 
hoUest, and most beneflcent, with one exception" ! 

The accomplished M. Barthelemy St. Hilaire, by the 
way, is quoted by Mr. Arnold, (at second hand through 
Professor Max Miiller,) as giving to Buddha a stainless 
record of life. Was, then, Buddha's early licentiousness 
no stain ? Was his subsequent running away from his 
wife no stain ? We shall have to change our ideas of 
purity and honor. Pray keep your heads, ye "eager 
encomiasts of paganism ! (Such indeed M. St. Hilaire 
is not, though in this particular concession he exceeds 
just bounds.) Say that Buddha was a good man, accord- 
ing to his light ; but do not let the new wine of this lib- 
eralism of yours make drunk altogether your reason, 
your conscience, and your common sense ! 

Before we quite dismiss from consideration the subject 
of v/oman's place and privilege under Buddhism, and 
her place and privilege in India with the not yet extin- 
guished Buddhist traditions of India, I have a contrast 
to present existing between Mr. Arnold's fancy on the 
one hand, and grim fact on the other. 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGAKIZER. 161 

Mr. Arnold draws a very clieerful picture of the 
Indian dancing-girls, and of their part in making life in 
India happy. Yon would, from what he says and im- 
plies, certainly gather that these were innocent, pretty 
'^ gay creatures of the element," so to speak, as to -whom 
— according to the well-known American myth which 
the chief dramatic personage in it refused to spoil by 
contradicting — transcendental Margaret Fuller, witness- 
ing, with Emerson, their rhythmic motions, might say to 
him, '^ Waldo, this is poetry," he replying, " Margaret, 
this is religion." So trippingly, in Mr. Arnold's verse, 
do these dancing-girls mov^e in and out, 

" Chiming light laughter round their restless feet." 

Would readers of the ^' Light of Asia" suppose that of 
those same dancing-girls could be true the following, 
which I take from Spry's '' Modern India," vol. 1., p. 
lYO. Mr. Spry is speaking of the low state of Indian 
women in general as to intellectual culture : 

'^ The Hindu dancing girls, on the other hand, whose 
occupations are avowedly devoted to public pleasure, are 
taught the use of letters, and are minutely instructed in 
the knowledge of every blandishment and art which can 
operate in communicating the sensual gratification of 
love. These women in former times were not obliged 
to seek shelter in private haunts, nor are they, on ac- 
count of their professional conduct, marked with any 
opprobrious epithet. Ko religious festival or ceremony 
is considered perfect without the presence of dancing 
women ; and during the Hindu and Mahomedan rule of 
Hindustan, they were, and are, even to this day, in those 
sovereignties independent of us, endowed with grants of 
public land for their maintenance. The mass of them 



162 EDWm ARNOLD, 

however are now without this provision, and not a whit 
less dissohite in their habits than tlie fair Cyprians of the 
Western world." 

1 even vindicate Bnddhism — against Mr. Arnold. 
Buddhism expressly condemns dancing and the seeing 
of dancing. 

So much for one side of the contrast to be presented. 
Now for the other. Grim fact it will be, set against gay 
fancy. If any think that the Indian ]>ractice of dancing 
is but a frivolous affair at most for Buddha, or for me, 
to condescend to, no one certainly will deny that the Ind- 
ian practice of suttee is suIKciently grave. This is the 
name of that custom, in accordance with which a large 
part of "mild" Asia inflicts death, by l)urning alive, 
upon wives unfortunate enough to survive their husbands. 
Christianity and British government together have, w^ithin 
a hundred years past, done much to abolish this dreadful 
practice ; but early in the })resent century, Dr. Carey, 
the illustrious English Ba])tist missionary in India, 
gathered some statistics on the point, which may be ac- 
cepted as his contribution to the "social science " of that 
period. Here is part of what he has to report. Mr. 
Ward, Dr. Carey's associate, is my authority. 1 quote 
from his ^' View of the History, Literature, Eeligiou of 
the Hindoos," p. 114 : 

'' Some years ago, two attempts were made, under the 
immediate superintendence of Dr. Carey, to ascertain 
the number of widows burnt alive within a given time. 
The lirst attempt was intended to ascertain the number 
thus burnt within thirty miles of Calcutta, during one 
year — viz., in ISOt^. Persons, selected for the purpose, 
were sent from place to place through that extent, to en- 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZEK. 163 

quire of the people of each town or village how many 
had been burnt within the year. The return made a 

total of FOUR HUNDRED AND THIRTY-EIGHT. Yet Very feW 

places east or west of the river Hoogly were visited. To 
ascertain this matter with greater exactness, ten persons 
were, in the year 1804, stationed in the different places 
within the above-mentioned extent of country ; each per- 
son's station was marked out, and he continued on the 
watch for six months, taking account of every instance 
of a widow's being burnt which came under his observa- 
tion. Monthly reports were sent in ; and the result, 
though less than the preceding year's report, made the 
number between two and three hundred for the year ! 
If within so small a space several hundred widows were 
burnt alive in one year, how many thousands of these 
w^iDows must be murdered in a year in so extensive 
a country as Hindoost'han ! So that, in fact, the 
funeral pile devours more than w^ar itself ! How truly 
shocking ! IS'othing equal to it exists in the whole work 
of human cruelty ! What a tragic history would a 
complete detail of these burnings make !" 

Page 126 : '' It is difficult to form an estimate of the 
number of Hindoos who perish annually, the victims of 
superstition ; and the author fears any reasonable conject- 
ure would appear to many as highly exaggerated, and 
intended to prejudice the public mind against the 
Hindoos as idolaters. He wishes to feel and avow a 
just abhorrence of idolatry, and to deplore it as one of 
the greatest scourges ever employed by a Being, terrible 
in anger, to punish nations who hav^e rejected the direct 
and simple means which nature and conscience supply of 
knowing himself ; but he would use no unfair means of 
rendering even idolatry detestable ; and with this assur- 



164 TIDWIX ARNOLD, 

ance, he now enters on as correct a conjecture respecting 
the number of victims annually sacrificed on the altars of 
the Indian gods, as he is able : 

AYidows burnt alive on the funeral pile, in 
Hindoost'hann 5,000 

Pilgi'ims perishing on the roads and at sacred 
places 4,000 

Persons drowning themselves in the Ganges, 
or buried or burnt alive 500 

Children immolated, including the daughters 
of the raju-pootus 500 

Sick persons whose death is hastened on the 
banks of the Ganges 500 



Total, 10,500 

Rather gruesome details these, to illustrate one of 
those " most characteristic habits" of the Hindus which 
Mr. Arnold declares to be " clearly due to the benign 
influence of Buddha's precepts" ! Suttee is, indeed, 
not a Buddhist institution ; but it certainly is, or till 
lately was, one of the '^ most characteristic habits " of 
the Hindus. 

On this point, I rest, as the lawyers say. That is, as 
to the state of woman in India, 1 have presented my case. 
My readers can judge for themselves how well the facts 
really existing sustain Mr. Arnold's representations on the 
subject, expressed and implied in the ^' Light of Asia." 
They can judge also of the praise justly due to Buddhism 
for its influence on the fortunes of woman. Just now, 
while I have been writing these sentences, the daily pa- 
pers bring to my notice the alleged fact of a form of hus- 
band's discipline in present active use among the Hindus, 



AS POETIZER AXD AS PAGANIZEK. 165 

not, I should say, indicative either of very fine national 
character, on their part, or of a highly eligible position 
enjoyed by Indian women. Five recent cases are re- 
ported in Bombay of the cutting oH of wives ' noses by 
their husbands. Yery barbarous things are sometimes 
done by American husbands to their wives ; but 1 sub- 
mit that just this sort of practice, the cutting off of wives' 
noses, implies, in Hindu character and in Hindu estima- 
tion of woman, something widely different from what 
obtains in Christian lands. 



Yll. 



In fact, with what has already been said, I rest, alto- 
gether and finally, on the whole subject of this volume. 
Fresh matter still I have in great plenty, but none that I 
need to introduce. My purpose was to be not exhaustive, 
but tentative. Out of the iUimitably exj^ansile cloud- 
land of Hindu philosophy so-called, I had no idea of 
cutting any section for showing to my readers. ^' Em- 
bracing cloud, Ixion-like," is an exercise far more satis- 
factory to the Oriental, than it is to the Occidental, 
mind. Hindu philosophy will always remain a ^' land 
of darkness as darkness itself," to the average American 
intellect. Possibly the time may come when to read 
and understand Hindu metaj^hysics and Hindu poetry, 
studied in the original Sanscrit, or in the original Pali, 
v/ill be considered a good discipline for our youth in 
college classes. But as yet, the attempt to domesticate 
Hindu sjDeculation among us here in America, is decided- 
ly premature. There is Mr. Pam Chandra Bose's 
*' Hindu Philosophy " already accessible to English 
readers ; and that admirable series of discussions must 
be accepted as all that is needed for the present on the 
subject. The perfect lucidity of the medium employed 
in this book — for Mr. Bose's English style is excellent — 
serves well to display the obstinate opacity of the thing 
itself that is shown us through the medium. 

Hindu speculative philosophy, therefore, with its 
monstrous cosmogony and its monstrous cosmology, and 



EDWIX ARNOLD. 167 

all the rest of it, I have here eschewed. The Occidental 
mind is ill fitted to deal with it. With Bnddhist ethics, 
however, 1 felt snre that we could do something. We 
conld understand it and judge it. Esoteric Buddhism may 
presume to transcend questions of practical morals ; but 
the Occidental conscience, trained in Christian ideas, at- 
taches as yet considerable importance to such points. To 
us Occidentals, Buddhism is good or bad, chiefly according 
to its ethics. Now, Buddhist ethics might be very good, 
and — very worthless. For, however good, they might 
lack vital force to get themselves lived by. But they 
are not very good. They are fundamentally vicious. 
The good that is in them is powerless, through defect of 
energizing motive supplied to get the good practiced. 
The evil that is in them — alas ! that has behind it all the 
force of native human depravity to help it work its harm. 
The result is — what we see in Buddhist lands, and what 
we fail to find truthfully depicted in Mr, Arnold's 
<^ Light of Asia." 



Ylll. 

T HAVE just spoken of esoteric Buddhism. There are, 
and 1 have not been unmindful of the fact, two Buddh- 
isms very different the one from the other. There is exo- 
teric Buddhism, and there is esoteric Buddhism. Exo- 
teric Buddhism is contained in books. Esoteric Buddhism 
lives only from voice to voice. Exoteric Buddhism may 
be studied. Esoteric Buddhism must be learned without 
study through a process of pure intuition, — if it be 
learned at all. You may verify the results of your study 
in exoteric Buddhism. What you learn of esoteric Buddh- 
ism admits of no verification whatsoever. IIow trans- 
cendental in its nature, and how hopelessly confounding 
to the native wit of man, is esoteric Buddhism, may be 
guessed from this one statement, occurring in a work 
about to be named, a work of the highest authority on 
the subject, lately published in England : 

^^ All the root-words transferred to popular literature 
from the secret doctrine have a sevenfold significance, 
at least for the initiate, while the uninitiated reader, natu- 
rally supposing that one word means one thing, and 
trying always to clear up its meaning by collating its va- 
rious applications, and striking an average, gets into the 
most hopeless embarrassment. '' 

The same book speaks of ^^ occult science' ' as ** infiltrat- 
ing into the mind — no w^ords at all being used to convey 
it." 

It is, I need not, after these quotations, say, the 



EDWIX ARNOLD. 169 

liumbler, the exoteric, or outside, Buddliism tliat I have 
sought in these pages partially to exhibit. Of esoteric 
Buddhism, I must content myself with simply remark- 
ing, that it is a system of '' occult science" so-called, 
comprehensive and profound ludicrously beyond any 
measure of comparison supplied in other knowledge, or 
pretension to knowledge, existing among men. This 
occult science — or esoteric Buddhism, as it may more 
distinctively be called — is a mystery that has been hidden 
from ages and from generations — until the current eigh- 
teen hundred eighty-fifth year of — the Buddhist ? nay, 
indeed, ridiculous to say ! of the Christian era. It has 
now been revealed, after a sort, by Mr. A. P. Sinnett, 
*' President of the Simla Eclectic Theosophical Society." 
This gentleman has written and published a book, *^ of 
immense importance to the world," he thinks, entitled 
*' Esoteric Buddhism," in which, for absolutely the first 
time in innumerable cycles of Eeons, the doctrines of 
*^ occult science" are put into forms of expression for 
profane eyes to read. These doctrines he does not prove ; 
not he, he simply announces them. The startling thing 
about it all, is that he does this in print. Hitherto, as 
already intimated, these doctrines have been merely the 
sacred oral tradition of teachers, from age to age. Never 
until now have they been cast down at risk before the 
promiscuous vulgar, as Mr. Sinnett casts them, like 
pearls before swine. 

It is no part of my purpose either to expound or to 
criticise Mr. Sinnett's book. I will barely say that I 
have read it with ^^ clumsy and irreverent " wonder — 
wonder somewhat resembling, therefore, in spirit the 
criticism which the author feared might be visited upon 
his volume. Esoteric Buddhism, though very different 
from, is not necessarily contradictory to, exoteric Buddh- 



170 EDWIN ARNOLD, 

isin. There is nothing, therefore, in the extracts from 
Buddhist hterature contained in the preceding pages, 
that Mr. Sinnett would concern hiinself to repudiate. 
He would merely transcend them. Esoteric Buddhism is 
far too placid a thing ever to smile — otherwise Mr. Sinnett 
might possibly smile at some of my interpretations and 
discussions ; but my quotations he would not, for he could 
not, discredit. These stand, and my readers may judge, 
and fairly judge, Buddhism by them. 

Esoteric Buddhism, as set forth by Mr. Sinnett, deals 
with matters far too sublime to admit sublunary concerns 
like ethical questions to mingle with them. Of God, it 
is as little heedful as is exoteric Buddhism. Mr. Sin- 
nett expressly says respecting the ' ' wondrously endowed 
representatives of occult science," that "they never 
occupy themselves at all with any conception remotely 
resembling the God of churches and creeds." Of 
''vice " and '' virtue " Mr. Sinnett speaks, but he gives 
no indication as to what constitutes either ^' virtue " or 
'' vice." By silence, therefore, esoteric Buddhism 
remands us to exoteric Buddhism to lind out Buddhist 
principles of morality, In fact, Mr. Sinnett, p. 158, 
says : 

" Ceylon [our own authority, Mr. Hardy, writes and 
translates as from Ceylon] is saturated with exoteric, 
and Thibet with esoteric, Buddhism. Ceylon concerns it- 
self merely or mainly with the morality, Tliibet, or rather 
the adepts of Thibet, with the science, of Buddhism." 

My readers have therefore gone with me to the right 
place to get pure Buddhist ethics. Our inquisition into 
the true moral quality of Buddhism is seen to be not 
at all the less in value for being confessedly exoteric. 



AS POETIZEK AND AS PAGANIZER. 171 

It will tend to show wliat might be expected, in the 
way of moral fruit, from esoteric Biiddliism, once trans- 
planted and flourishing here, and at the same time will 
throw a superfluous light on the ideal Hindu character, — if 
I quote, at this point, a few sentences from an earlier book 
of Mr. Sinnett's, entitled ^'The Occult World," (p. T), 
a production even more curious perhaps than his '' Eso- 
teric Buddhism" : 

** Ask any cultivated Hindoo if he has ever heard of 
Mahatmas ['Adepts ' or * Brethren'] and Yog Yidya or 
occult science, and it is a hundred to one that you will 
find he has — and, unless he happens to be a hybrid prod- 
uct of an Anglo-Indian University, that he fully be- 
lieves in the reality of the powers ascribed to Yoga. It 
does not follow that he will at once say ^ Yes ' to a 
European asking the question. He will probably say 
just the reverse, from the apprehension I have spoken 
of above ; but push your questions home, and you will 
discover the truth, as I did, for example, in the case of 
a very intelligent English-speaking native vakeel in an 
influential position, and in constant relations with high 
European officials, last year. At first my new acquaint- 
ance met my inquiries as to whether he knew anything 
about these subjects with a wooden look of complete 
ignorance, and an explicit denial of any knowledge as to 
what I meant at all. It was not till the second time I 
saw him in private, at my own house, that by degrees it 
grew upon him that I was in earnest, and knew some- 
thing about Yoga myself, and then he quietly opened 
out his real thoughts on the subject, and showed me that 
he knew not only perfectly well what I meant all along, 
but was stocked with information concerning occurrences 
and phenomena of an occult or apparently supernatural 



172 EDWINS' ARNOLD, 

order, many of which had been observed in his own 
family and some by himself," 

The Christian conscience will instinctively revolt from 
such a standard of truth- telling as is thus fatuously 
exemplified by Mr. Sinnett, not to say in Mr. Sinnett. 
Occult science ought to have, for lovers of truth wherever 
found, no charms capable of overcoming this guardian in- 
stinctive first revolt and abhorrence. Continue to listen, 
after you know you are listening to a liar, and whom 
have you but yourself to blame, if you are brought under 
a strong delusion that you should believe a lie ? 

It should not be overlooked that what Mr. Sinnett re- 
lates as to the conduct of the ^^ adept" native, exactly 
tallies with the ethical inculcation of Buddhism on the 
subject of lying. The '^wooden look of complete igno- 
rance" and the ^'explicit denial of any knowledge" — 
these, according to Buddhist morality, were not ' ' lies, ' ' 
should they have the effect to deceive. After they evi- 
dently fail to have this effect they are no longer persisted 
in. Here you have Buddhist morality very happily ex- 
emplified in act by a Buddhist. Christians under stress 
may sometimes violate truth. But it will then be be- 
cause they disobey Christ — not because they obey Him ! 
This is the difference between Buddhism and Christi- 
anity. 

My mention of Mr. Sinnett's books will incidentally 
show that Buddhism, however alien a thing, and dreai'ily 
void of interest, to most Western minds, is yet to some 
people among us a subject full of strange attraction. 
Mr. Arnold has probably increased the number of those 
susceptible to this attraction, but he is himself an au- 
thority too exoteric to be so much as mentioned by the 
esoteric Mr. Sinnett. 



AS POETIZER AND AS rAGAIJTZER. 173 

Apropos of Mr. Sinnott's later book, I may perhaps 
assume that some at least of my readers will be interest- 
ed to know what last word esoterie Buddhism has to say 
on the moot-question of the real sense of the Buddhist 
term E"irvana. I shall be able to alternately satisfy and 
disappoint the adherents of the two contrary views cur- 
rent on the subject. According to esoteric Buddhism, 
Nirvana, in the first place, is not cessation of conscious 
existence and, in the second place, it is. Mr. Sinnett 
says, p. 163 : ^' All that words can convey is that ISTir- 
vana is a sublime state of conscious rest in omniscience. " 
But then again, less simply, he says, p. 182 : 

^' Certainly it is not by reason of the grandeur of any 
human conceptions as to what would be an adequate 
reason for the existence of the universe, that such a con- 
summation can appear an insufficient purpose, not even 
if the final destiny of the planetary sjDirit himself, after 
periods to which his development from the mineral 
forms of primeval worlds is but a childhood in the rec- 
ollection of the man, is to merge his glorified individu- 
ality into that sum total of all consciousness, which 
esoteric metaphysics treat as absolute consciousness, which 
is no7i- consciousness.'^^ (The italics are the present 
writer's. ) 

The ultimate human state, then, Nirvana, or para- 
Nirvana, is, after all, "non-conscious." Let those who 
please difference this from personal annihilation. We 
exoterics will have to think that the two, non-conscious- 
ness and personal non-existence, come practically to much 
the same thing. 

I must, in conclusion, once more remind my readers 
of a fact not to be neglected by them. The trust- 



174 KDWIX ARNOLD, 

worthiness of the present discussion of Buddhism depends 
upon the trustworthiness of the authority chiefly rehed 
upon, namely, Mr. Hardy. In order to furnish to eacli 
individual inquirer at least a partial basis for an intelli- 
gent opinion of his own respecting the value of this 
source of information, I give here some remarks made 
by Mr. Hardy in his preface : 

^' In the preparation of the present Manual, I have 
kept one object steadily in view. It has been my simple 
aim, to answer the question, ' What is Buddhism, as it 
is now professed by its myriads of votaries ? ' A deep 
interest in the subject ; intense application ; honesty of 
purpose ; a long residence in a country where the system 
is professed ; a daily use of the language from which I 
have principally translated ; and constancy of intercourse 
with the sramana priests, have been my personal ad~ 
vanta<2fes to aid me in the undertaking:. . . . The 
concluding chapters present a compendium of the 
ontology and ethics of Buddhism, as they are under- 
stood by the modern priesthood, and now taught to the 
people. 

'' In confining myself, almost exclusively, to transla- 
tion, I have chosen the humblest form in which to reap- 
pear as an author. I might have written an extended 
essay \i])on the system, as it presents a rich mine, com- 
paratively unexplored ; or have attempted to make the 
subject popular, by leaving out its extravagances, and 
weaving its more interesting jjortions into a continued 
narrative ; but neither of these modes would have ful- 
filled my intention. They would have enabled me only 
to give expression to an opinion, when I wish to present 
an authority. I have generally refrained from comment ; 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZKR. 175 

but in order thereto, Imve liad to lay aside matter tliat 
has cost me much thought in its preparation." 

-x- ^- -K- -Jf -5t ^ 

^' I am not aware that I have omitted any great feature 
of the system ; unless it be, that I have not given suffi- 
cient prominence to the statements of my authorities on 
the anatomy of the body, and to their reflections on the 
offensive accompaniments of death. It is probable that 
a careful review of insulated portions of the work vv^ill 
discover errors in my translation, as in much of my 
labor 1 have had no predecessor ; but 1 have never wil- 
fully perverted any statement, and have taken all practi- 
cable methods to secure the utmost accuracy." 

These expressions have in them the note of sincerity, 
and, I will venture to add, of scholarly qualification on the 
author's part, for the task undertaken by him. 1 am not 
av/are that either the good faith, or the adequate equip- 
ment in learning, of Mr. Hardy has ever been called in 
question. His " Manual of Budhism" is incessantly quot- 
ed from and referred to, always with respect, by writers 
of the best character and highest accomplishment, who 
deal with his subject. Professor Max Miiller and Dr. 
Rhys Davids may stand for examples. It would undoubt- 
edly have been satisfactory to collate Mr. Hardy's transla- 
tions, at the peculiarly vital point of ethical teaching, with 
the translations of other Oriental scholars. But it is at this 
very point, as it hap]Dens, that Mr. Hardy has apparently 
been a pioneer without companion or follower. At least 
I have looked carefully through the superb library of 
'^Sacred Books of the East," edited by Professor Max 
Miiller, without finding anything that 1 could place as a 
parallel alongside of Hardy's " Ethics of Buddhism." 
Volumes there are in that great collection, of translation 



176 EDWIN ARXOLD, 

from tlie original Pali, but the taste, or the judgment, or 
the fortune, of the learned translator lias not, so far as I 
discov^er, led him to give ns anything in the way of dis- 
tinctively ethical teaching on the part of Buddhism. 
Whether or not Pali originals shall yet be found and pro- 
duced in English to support Mr. Hardy's translations 
from Singhalese, matters little — to our purpose. Hardy 
shows ns Buddhism as it exists in Ceylon. If, in some 
former age, and elsewhere than in Ceylon, Buddhism 
was better, it has but followed the tendency of things 
human to deteriorate with time. We are concerned here 
with what Buddhism certainly is, not with what Buddh- 
ism conjecturally was. 

It will be observed that Mr. Hardy is in no sense re- 
sponsible for the use here made by me of the material 
that he furnishes. I have taken strictly the Buddhist 
text supplied me in Mr. Hardy's translations from the 
Singhalese form of the original Pali, but I have freely 
chosen my own way in interpretative comment. 

Some one may bethink himself to inquh-e, But, Mr. 
Hardy's authority being supposed satisfactory, has the 
present writer represented Buddhism fairly and propor- 
tionately out of Mr. Hardy ? On this point, with all con- 
fidence I can say that Buddhism has no just cause to 
complain. So far from it, the system might easily, and 
that in consistency with truth, have been made to appear 
greatly more ridiculous than I have in fact made it appear. 
The pi^oportion of monstrous and incredible belonging 
to it, is much larger in Mr. Hardy than it is in my pages. 
Buddhism is in truth here painted too bright rather than to 
black. If my picture of the system does not sustain Mr. 
Arnold, Mr. Arnold would surely look in vain for any- 
thing to sustain him in the original of my picture, namely, 
the svstem itself. 



AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER. 177 

Whether as literature, then, or as exposition of Baddhist 
doctrine and life, the '' Light of Asia" must be pronounced 
unworthy to survive. As to the other pagan poems of 
Mr. Arnold, his '' Pearls of the Faith," his ''Indian 
Idylls," and his " Iliad of India," it is quite enough to 
say of these productions that they had from the first their 
only chance of immortality in parasitic attachment to the 
fortunes of the " Light of Asia." In due time, prin- 
cipal and parasite, they, with the false religions of which 
they treat, will go to the limbo of things abortive, 
one and all of them confounded and forgotten together. 



U^() 

ARCHIBALD MALMAISON. 

A New Novel. By Julian Hawthorne. Price, paper, 15 cts.; cloth, extra 

paper, 75 cents. 



INDEPENDENT, N. Y. " Mr. Julian Hawthorne can choose no better com- 
pliment upon his new romance, 'Archibald Malmaison,' than the assurance 
that he has at last put iorth a story which reads as if the manuscript, written 
m his fatner's indecipherable handwriting and signed ' Nathaniel Haw- 
thorne,' had lain shut into desk for twenty-five years, to be only just now 
pulled out and printed. It is a masterful romance ; short, compressed, terri- 
bly dramatic in its important situations, based upon a psychologic idea as 
weiri aid susceptible of startling treatment as possible. It i? a book, to be 
read through in two hours, but to dwell in the memory forever. It so cleverly 
surpasses ' Garth ' or ' Bressant in its sympathy with the style of the elder 
Hawthorne that it must remain unique among Mr. Julian Hawthorne's works 
— until lie exceeds it. The employment of the central theme and the literary 
conduct of the plot is nearly beyond criticism. The frightful climax breaks 
upon the perception of tho reader with surprise that he did not foresee it ; 
another tribute on his part to the unconventional ily which is one of the many 
touches of eminent art in Mr. Hawthorne's tale." 

Ji. H. STODDARD, IN NEW YORK MAIL AND EXPRESS. "The cli- 
max is so terrible, as the London r/7«^j has pointed out, and so dramatic in 
if. intensity, that it is impossible to class it with any situation of modern fic- 
tion. . . Mr. Hawthorne is cleaily and easily the first of living romancers." 

THE CONTINENT, N. Y. "The most noteworthy story Mr. Julian Haw- 
thorne has ever produced. . . No wilder romance has evei been imagined. 
. . A brilliant and intensely powerful work. . . It is certain that such 
power sets the author at the head of modern romancers.'' 

THE LONDON TIMES. " After perusal of this weird, fantastic tale (Archi- 
bald Malmaison), it must be admitted that upon the shoulders of Julian 
Hawthorne has descended in no small degree the mantle of his more illustri- 
ous father. The climax is so terrible, and so dramatic in its intensity, that it 
is impossible to class it with any situation of modern fiction. There is much 
psychological ingenuityshown in some of the more subtle touches that lend 
an air of reality to this wild, romance." 

THE LONDON GLOBE. " 'Archibald Malmaison,* is one of the most daring 
attempts to set the wildest fancy masquerading in the cloak of science, which 
has ever, perhaps, been made. Mr. Hawthorne has managed to combine the 
almost perfect construction of a typical French novelist, with a more than 
typically German power of conception. Genius is here of a kind more artistic- 
ally self-governed than Hoffman's, and less_ obviously self-conscious than 
Poe's. A strange sort of jesting humor gives piquancy to its grimne^s." 

THE ACADEMY. "Mr. Hawthorne has a more powerful imagination than 
any contemporary writer of nctien. He has the very uncommon gift of taking 
hold of the reader's attention at once, and the still laore uncommon gift of 
maintaining his grasp when it is fixed." 



THE PEARL-SHELL NECKLACE.-— PRINCE SA^ 

RONI'S Wife. 

Two Novels. By Julian Hawthorne, one volume, i2mo, paper, 15 cents; 
cloth, extra paper, 75 cents. [In press.] 

CONTEMPORARY REVIEW. "The 'Pearl-Shell Necklac: ' is a story of 
permanent value, and stands quite alone for subtle blending of individual and 
general human interest, poetic and psychologic suggestion, and rare humor." 

SPECTATOR. " ' The Pearl-Shell Necklace' wherever found, would stamp 
us author as a man of genms. Even the elder Hawthorne never produced 
more weird effects within anythi»g like the same compass. And yet there is 
absolutely no imitation." 

FUNK & WAGNALLS, Publishers, 10 & 12 Dey St., New York. 



187 
HIMSEL F A CA AV. 

A New Novel. By J. C. GoldSiMITH, i2mo, paper, 25 cts.; cloth, extra 

paper, $1.00. 



COMMENTS OF THE PRESS. 

THE BOSTON GLOBE. " Its peculiar qualities are its delineation of eccen- 
tric character which is notab.y free and bold, and its familiarity with many 
kHids of present American life and manners, and its original, realistic treat- 
ment. . . Beneath the sprightly dash with which the story is outlined and 
filled, there is conscious strong power. It is finely written, and of decided 
merit." 

THE EVENING POST, HARTFORD. " Unlike most novels, the first chap- 
ters of this remarkable story are the weakest. But let the reader persevere and 
he will find opened to him a wonderful world of novel and interesting charac- 
ters, a valuab e and unique philosophy, and an almost unsurpassed backgi-ound 
of American cuy and coantry scenery, both land and water." 

BOSTON" ADVERTISER. " The writer displays more than average insight 
into the workings of human nature, and the naturalness of his character draw- 
ing is no doubt the secret of the special attiaction that lies in the book." 

CLEVELAND LEADER. " This is a purely American novel. . . and one 
ot the bes>t we have seen. It is so vivid in its description of localities and 
personage-;, that the reader hardly doubts that all ii real. And in accom- 
plisking this ttie author achieves a kind of charm that is as delightful as it is 
hard to define." 



RUTHERFORD, 



A New Novel. By Edgar Fawcett. Author cf "An Ambitious Woman," 

"A Gentleman of Leisure ," "A Hopeless Case," " Tinkling Cytnbais," 

etc, i2mo, paper, 25 cts; cloth, extra paper, $1.00. 

MR. FAWCETT his of late been steadily and rapidly advancing toward the 
foremost place among American novelistSr He deals with ph ises of society 
that require the utmost skill ; but his quick insight into character, his ready 
sympathies, and his conscientious literary art, have proved more than equal to 
the tasks he has undertaken. It is certain that many of the best critics are 
watching his course with high anticipations. In ' Rutherford, his latest 
work, neither they nor the public will be disappointed. It is a novel of New 
York society, and rarely has character been portrayed with more delicate but 
effective touches than in the case of some of^these representatives of Knicker- 
bocker caiite. The story is by no means confined to them however, but is en- 
riclied to a very great degree by characters taken from lov.'cr social planes. 
Nothing the author has ever done, perhaps, surpasses his characterization of 
* Pansy ' one of the two sisters who have fallen from affluence to poverty. 
Through them he arouses the deepest sympathies, and shov/s a dramatic 
power that is full of promise. It is needless, of course, to commend the liter- 
ary finish of Mr. Fawcett's style. It is fast approaching perfection. 

FUNK & WAGNALLS. Publishers, 10 & 12 Dey St., New York. 



188 

THE FORTUNES OF RACHEL. 

A New Novel. By Edward Everett Hale. lamo, paper, 25c.; cloth, |r. 



CHRISTIAN UNION N. Y ' Probably no American h,-:s a mere devoted 
constituency of readers than ATr Edward Everett Hale, and to all ihese his 
latest story, 'The Fortunes of Rachel, will bring genuine pleasure. Mr. Hale 
is emphatically a natural writei ; he loves to interpret common things and to 
deal with average persons. He does this with such insight, v/ith such noble 
conception of lite and of his work, that he discovers that profound interest 
which belongs to the humblest as truly as to the most bril'iant forms o( life. 
. . This story is a thoroughly American novel, full of incident, rich in 

strong traits of character, and full of stimulating thought; it is wholesome and 
elevating." 

BOSTON JOURNAL. " The virtue of the book Is the healthful, encouraging, 
kindly spirit which pervades it, and which will help one to battle with adverse 
circumstances, ds, indeed, all Mr. Hale's stories have helped." 

NEIV YORK JOURNAL OF COMMERCE. "A purely American story, 
original all through, and Rachel is one of the pleasantest and most satisfactory 
of heroine-^. She is a girl of the soil, unspoiled by foreign travels and con- 
ventionalities. After surfeiting on romances whose scenes are laid abroad, it 
is deiightful to come across a healthy home product like tbis." 

BOSTON GLOBE. " Every one knows that Mr. Hale is the prince of story- 
tellers." 



MUMU, AND THE DIAR Y OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 

Two powerful novels descriptive of serf and upper-class life in Russia. 
By Ivan Turgenieff. i2mo, paper, 15c.; cloth, extra paper, 75c. 

N. Y. TRIBUNE. " His characters are vital; they suffer with a pathos that 
irresistibly touches the reader to sympathy. Those who would write in the 
same vein get merely his admirable manner, full of reserve, of self-restraint, 
of joyless patience; but while under this surface with I'urgenieff he throbbing 
arteries and quivermg flesh, his imitators offer us nothing more than lay figures 
in whose fortunes it is impossible to take any lively interest. 'Jhey represent 
before us only poor phases of modern society, while Turgenieff has explained 
to us a nat-on ard shown the playof emotions that are as old ris the world and 
as new as the hour in which they are born." 

LITERARY IVORLD, Boston. "These two stories . . are unquestion- 
ably to be ranked among their author's masterpieces. . . * Mumu ' will 
bear a great amount of study ; it marks out a whole method in fiction." 

THE MANHATTAN. "One of the most powerful and touching pictures of 
slave-liie in ail literature." 

LIFPINCOTTS MAGAZINE, Phila. "There are some half dozen of Tur- 
genieffs short stones absolutely perfect each in its way, but none, perhaps, 
quite so exquisitely as Mumu ' shows the great artist's power to transfigure to 
our eyes the tenderness, passion, agonies, which lie beyond speech and almost 
beyond sign, m the silent heart of a strong, simple man," 

CRITIC AND GOOD LITERATURE, N. Y. "How little material genius 
requires for making a ' good thing.' Turgenieff's ' Mumu ' is only the sketch 
ota deaf mute and a dog, but how beantifuUy told I There are touches of 
infinite gentleness as well as of skill." 

FUNK & WAGNALLS, Publishers, 10 & 12 Dey St., New York. 



189 

Oeorge Eliot's Essays. 

THE ESSAYS OF GEORGE ELIOT, Collected and Arrange<3, 
with an Introduction on her " Analysis of Motives." By Nathan 
SheppaRD, author of "Shut up in Paris," *' Readings from George 
Eliot," etc. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, ^i.oo. 

( TJiis is the first appearance of these Essays in book form in England 
or America.') 



Sf he Critic, New York: 

"Messrs. Funk & Wagnalls have done 
a real service to George Eliot's innumer- 
able admirers by reprinting in their popu- 
lar Standard Library the great novel- 
ist's occasional contributions to the period- 
ical press." 
Weiv YorJc gun. : 

"In the case of George Eliot especially, 
whose reviews were anonymous, and who 
could never have supposed that such 
fugitive ventures would ever be widely 
associated with the rame of a diffident 
and obiCure young woman, ws gain access 
in her early essays, as in no other of her 
published writings, o the sanctuary c f her 
deepest convictions, and to the intellectual 
workshop in which literary methods and 
processes were tested, discarded, or ap- 
proved, and literary tools fashioned and 
manipulated long before the author had 
discerned the large purposes to which they 
were to be applied. * * * Looking back 
over the whole ground covered by these 
admirable papers, we are at no loss to un- 
derstand why George Eliot should have 
made it a lule to read no criticisms on her 
own stories. She had nothing to learn 
from critics. She was justified in assum- 
ing that not one of those who took upon 
themselves to appraise her achievements 
had given half of the time, or a tithe of 
the intellect, to the determination of the 
right aims and processes of the English 
novel, which, as these reviews attest, she 
had herself expended on that object before 
Tcnturing upon that form of composition 
which Fielding termed the modern epic." 
EIxamin.er, New York : 

"These essays ought to be read by any 
one who would uiulerstand this part of 
George Eliot's career; and, indeed, they 



furnish the key to all her subsequent 

literary achievements." 

Evening Transcript, Boston. 

" No one who reads these essays will re- 
gret their publication, for they are of 
striking and varied ability, and add much 
to the completeness of our conception of 
Marian Evans* character. Critical and 
artistic power seldom go hand-in-hand. 
The most brilliant piece of purely lilerary 
work is the one on Heine and Germaa 
wit. It is one which reaches the highest 
level of intellectual criticism, and stands 
unsurpassed by anything of Arnold 6r 
Lov.-ell," 
ClitircJi Union, New York: 

" Nathan Sheppard, the collector of the 
ten essays in this form, has written a high- 
ly laudatory but critical introduction to 
the boo!:, on her 'Analysis of Motives,* 
and, after reading it, it seems to us that 
every cne who would read her works 
profitably and truly should first have read 
it." 
Z ion's Herald, Boston : 

" As remarkable illustrations of hef 
masculine metaphysical ability as is evl« 
denced in her strongest fictions." 
Episcopal Meti&odist, Baltimore: 

"Everybody of culture wants to read 
all George Eliot wrote." 
Hartford Evening Post: 

" They are admirable pieces of liter- 
ary workmanship, but they arc much morfe 
than that. * * * These essays are tri- 
umphs of critical analysis combined with 
epigrammatic pungency, subtle ironyj 
and a wit that never seems strained." 
Cliristian Advocate, New York : 

" They show the versatility of the great 
novelist. One en Evang^elical Teaching i* 
especially interesting." 



190 
ALPHONSE DAUDETS FAMOUS BOOK. 



L'EVANGELISTE. 

'By ^LFHOr^^^E X>A.UI>ET- 
Pounded on the Doings of the Salvation Army. 

" L'fiyANGEiiiSTE " is far out of the beaten track of fiction, and its originality 
is su>plemented by intense power and interest ; in fact, it would be difiicult to find a 
romance in which the interest is more absorbing. Nor is this interest the result, 
as is deplorably the case in so much French fiction, of highly spiced sentimental- 
ity or daring vulgarity. The book is clean, wholesome, refined, and is, moreover, 
founded on fact. It treats mainly of the acts and methods of that world-famouu 
organization, the Salvation Army, and the heroine, Eiine Ebsen, is a Dane, living 
wiln her mother in the Scandinavian colony in Paris. She is on the point of being 
married, and a happy life seems in store for her, but suddenly a disturbing infiuence 
appears in the shape of Madam Autheman, a wealthy banker's wife, who i:? giveu 
to making religious converts. This woman hires Elinc to translate some prayei- 
books, and during the execution of the work the girl becomes filled with hci* 
patron's enthusiasm. She breaks with her suitor and deserts her mother to servo 
as a preacher in the Salvation Army. This is the introduction to one of the mos^'t 
thrillinG: noveb; of ihe day, and from thence onward the plot absolutely enthralls 
the reader, each succeeding link riveting the chain the tighter. The incidents are 
strong in the highest degree, very dramatic, and pervaded by a lurid light of mysti- 
cism which augments the effect a thousand-fold. The gradual development in the 
young heroine of the fatal passion for proselytizing people is depicted as Alphonse 
Daudet alone of all the French novelists can depict' an idea, and the struggles of 
the poor mother to recover her deluded daughter from the grasp of the rich Autlie- 
mans, her vain appeals to the feeling of pity and the unsympathetic law, touch the 
heart of the reader to an extent the pen cannot depict, all the more so when one 
learns how the novel came to be written. Daudet had often observed the sad face 
of the lady who gave lessons in German to his eldest son. Surprising her one day, 
with tears in her eyes, he induced her to narrate the causes of her woe. The story 
of the woman forms the basis of this novel, in which she figures as Mme. Ebsen. 



WHAT CRITICS THINK OF PAUDET. 

HENRY JAMES, Jn., says, in the Cenlury Magazive : "We have no one, 
either in England or America, to oppose to Alphonse Daudet. The appearance of 
a new novel by this admirable genius is to my mind the most delightful literary 
event that can occur just now ; in other words, Alphonse Daudet is at the head 
of his profession." 

JULES CLARETIE, the eminent French writer, says : " To-day Alphonse 
Daudet has airived at the full measure of his renown. In fiction he is proclaimed 
the master. ... Is the most delicate, the most sympathetic, the most charming of 
all our contemporary writers of romance. . , . The poet of romance." 

JOAQUIN MILLEK says, in a letter, April 3, '84 : " I had rather be Alphonse 
Daudet than any other living man now in literature, except two: one of these is 
Victor Hugo, and the other is— Joaquin Miller." 

Paper Cover, 50 cents. Cloth, Sl.OO. 

^" This is the ONLY Complete Edition of the Story published in 
America. About 07ie half of the Story is published in one of the cheap 
libraries cf the day— a mere fragment. 



191 PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK ti WAGNALLS, NEW YORK. 

** Tlxe laost important and practical -vrorlc off tbe aee on tlie 
Psalms."— SCHAFF. 

SIX VOI-,UMKS ^O^W MKAOY. 

-SFURGlOPi'S CREAT LIFE WORK- 

THE TREASURY OF DAVID! 

To be published in seven octavo volumes of about 470 pages each, 
uniformly bound, and making a library of 3,300 pages, 
in handy form for reading and reference. 
It is published simultaneously with, and contains the exact matter of, 
the English Edition, which has sold at $4.00 per volume 
in this country— $28.00 for the work when com- 
pleted. Our edition is in every way pref- 
eiable, and is furnished at 

ONE-HALF THE PBICE OF 

THE ENGLISH 

EDITION. 

Price, Per Vol. SJ2.00e 

** Messrs. Funk 6^ Wagnalls have entered into an arrangement with 
me to reprint THE TREASUR Y OF DA VID in the United States. I 
have every confidence in them that they will issue it correctly and worthily. 
It has been the great literary work of my life^ and I trust it will be as 
kindly received in America as in England. I wish for Messrs. Funk sue- 
eess in a venture which must involve a great risk and much outlay. 

''Dec. 8, iSSi. C. H. SPURGE ON.'' 

Volumes L, 11., III., IV., V. and VI. are now ready; volume 
Vir., which completes the great work, is now under the hand of the 
author. Subscribers can consult their convenience by ordering all 
the volumes issued, or one volume at a time, at stated intervals, until 
the set is completed by the delivery of Volume VII. 

From the large number of hoarty commendations of this import- 
ant work, we give the following to indicate the value set upon the 
Bame by 

EMINENT THEOLOGIANS AND SCHOLARS. 

tical voTk of the age on the Psalter is 
'The Treasury of David,' by Charles H 



Philip Scliaff, "^.D., the Eminent 
Comnentator and the President of the 
American Bible Revision Committee, 
eays: "The most important and prac- 



Spurgeon. It is full of the force and 
genius of this celebrated preacher, aa4 



(over.) 



• Tht above worki will be sent by mail, postage /aid, on receipt of the price* 



FlIBUVATrONS e^f FUNR <3t WAV 1^ ALLS, NEW YORK. 



192 



tfch in selections from the entire range 
ef literature." 

Wi'liam JW:. 'jiaylor, D.D.9 

New York says: '• In the exposition of 
the heart 'The TREASUEy op David' is 
&ui g^n-'.ris, rich in experience and pre- 

7 r^tfivri+.innal T^Viq £i-wr»/^o-i+-i/-iv\ 



ygrf;ris, ncn in experience ana pre- 
eminently devotional. The exposition 
is al wars fresh. To the preacher it la ' 
saiaaciallv suceestive." 



JB aiWitx B iresu. xo 

espaciaUy suggestive. 



Jolin Hall, D.D., New iTovk, 

says: •• There are two questions that 
must interest every expositoi- of tha 
Divine Word. What does a particular 
passage mean, and to what use is it to 
be applied in public teaching? in tte 
department of the latter Mr. Spur- 
geon's great work on the Psalms is 
Without an equal. Eminently practical 
in his own teaching, he has collected in 
these volumes the best thoughts of the 
best minds on the Psalter, andesfe- 
oially of that great bodyjoosely grouped 
together as the Puritan divines. I am 
heartily glad that by arrangements, 
Batisfactory to aU concerned, tins Messrs. 
¥unk & Wasnalis are to bring luis great 
■work within tlij roach of ministers 
'everywhere, as the English edition is 
necessarily expensive. I wish the 
highest success to the enterprise." 

liVilliam Ormiston, ll.'^.,New 
York, says: " I consider * The Teeasxjey 
OF David' a work of surpassing ezcel- 
lenca.of inestimable value to every stu- 
dent of the 1 Salter. It will prove a 
Btandard work on the Psalms for all 
time. The instructive introductions, 
the racy original ezpositioas, the 
numerous quaint illustrations gath- 
ered from wide and varied fi.dds, and 
the suggestive sermonic hints, render 
the volumes invaluable to all preachers, 
and indispensable to every minister's 
library. All who delight in reading the 
Psal 1 s— and what Christian does not? 
—will prize this werk. It is a rich 
cyclopaedia of the literature of tuese 
ancient odes." 

Tlieri. 1.. Tiiyler, O.D., Brook- 
lyn, says: " I have usel Mr. Spurgeon's 
*Th3 Teeasuky of David' for tl ree 
years, and found it worthy of its name. 
Whoso goeth in there v/iU find 'rich 
spoils.' At both my visits to Mr. S. ho 
spoke with much enthusiasm of tiiis 
undertaking as one of his favor. te 
methods of enriching himself and 
others." 

JesaeB. Thomag, D.D , Brook- 
lyn, says: '« I have the highest concep- 



tion ot the sterling worth of all Mr. 
Spurgeon's publications, and I incline 
to Jegard his Tkeasury of David* as 
having received more of his loving 
labor than any other. I regard its 
publication at a lower price as a great 
service to American Bible JStudents." 

New York Observer saysj " A 
rich compendium of suggestive com- 
ment upon the richest devotional 
pjetry ever given to mankind. ' 

Tlio Congrpgatlonalist, Bos- 
ton, says: " As a devout and spiritually 
suggestive work, it is meeting with 
the warmest approval and receiving 
the hearty commendation of the mosi 
distinguished divines." 

United Presbyterian, Pitts 
burg. Pa., says: "It is unapproacheei 
as a commentary on the Psalms. It is 
of equal value to ministers and lay- 
men—a quality that works of the kind 
rarely possess." 

Nortb American, Philadelphia, 
Pa.: says: ♦•Will find a place in the 
library of every minister who knows 
how to appreciate a good thing." 

NeTS' Yoric Indeperd[«>nt Pays: 
" He has ransacked evangelical litera- 
ture,and comes forth. Like Jessica from 
her father's house, 'gilded with 
ducats' and rich plunder in the shapa 
of good and helptul quotations.' 

New York Tribnne says: "For 
the great majority of readers who seek 
in the Psalms those practical lessons 
in which they are so rich, and those 
wonderful interpretations of heart-life 
and expression of emotion in which 
they anticipate the New Testament, we 
know of no book like this, nor as good. 
It is literally a • Treasury.' " 

.«. S. Times sa-s: "Mr. Fpurgeon'a 
style is simple, direct and perspicuous, 
oiten remindm?; olc of the matchleea 
prose of Bunyan." 

"West -rnCbristian Advocate, 

Cincinnati, O., says: "The price is ex- 
tremely moderate ior so Jarge and im- 
portant a work. * * * -^v^, have ex- 
amined this volume wiih care, and we 
are greatly pleased with the plan off 
execution." 

Cbri.sitian Herald says: "Con- 
tains more felicitous illustrations, 
more valuable sermonic hints, than caa 
be found in all other works on ths 
same book put together." 



49; The abovg works vnll be sent 6y maii, postage J,aid, on rtceipt 0/ thi fne$^ 



m 



The Hoyt-Ward Encyclopsedia of Quotatians, 

PROSE AND POETRY. 

20,000 QUOTATIONS, 50,000 LINES OF CONCORDANCE. 

This full concordance of over 50,000 lines, is to quotations what Young's 
and Crudcu's Concordances are to the Bible. A quotation, if but a word is re 
membered, can easily be found by means of this great work. 

BOSTON POST. 

" The only standard book of quotations. For convenience and us ^ulnessik s 
work cannot, to our viind, be surpassed, and it Jims ! long re7nain th e standard 
among its kind, ranking side by tide with, and bei ng equally indv-pens abU in 
every well-ordered librat-y, as ^Yorcester's or W ebster's Dictionary, EogeCs The- 
saurus, and Crabb's Synonyms.'''' 

GEORGE W. CURTIS: 

"A most mrriceaUe companiov." 

HON. JUDGE EDMUNDS, U. S. SENATOR: 

" The most com plete and best work of the kind." 

GEN. STEWART L. WOODFORD : 

' ' The *inost c omplete and accurate hook of the kind. '^ 

MAJ.-GEN. GEO. B. McCLELLAN: 

" A work that sh ould be in every library." 

GEORGE W. CHILDS: 

" Any one -icho dips into it will at once make a place for it 

among his well-cho sen books." 

HENRY WARD BE^JCHER: 

" Goo d all the way through.'"' 

HON. ABRAM S. HEWITT: 

'' Tnc comple teness of its indices is simply astonishing." 

WENDELL: PHILLIPS (Just before liis Death) :^^ 
" It is of rare value to the scholar." 

Prices :— Royal, 8vo, over goo pp., Heavy Paper, Cloth Binding, $5.00 ; 
Sheep, $6.50: Half Morocco, $8.00; Full Morocco, $10.00. 

PnMlslsrs; FUHK & WA8HALLS, 10 k 12 Dey Slrest, llew Yort. 



nr 



PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK d: WAGN ALLS, NEW YORK. 104 

Biblical Lights and Side Lights; or. 

Ten Thousand Biblical Illustrations, with Thirty Thousand 
Cross References, consisting of Facts, Incidents, and R.eniarkable 
Statements for the use of Public Speakers and Teachers ; and also 
for those in every kind of Profession, who for illustrative purposes 
desire ready access to the numerous and interesting narratives con- 
tained in the Bible. By Rev. Charles E. Little. 8vo, cloth. 
Price, ^4.00. 

Biblical Notes and Queries. 

A general medium of communication regarding Biblical 
Criticism and Biblical Interpretation, Ecclesiastical History, An- 
tiquities, Biography and Theological Science, Reviews, etc. It 
answers thousands of questions constantly presented to the minds of 
clergymen and Sunday-school teachers. By Robert Young, LL.D., 
author of the Analytical Concordance to the Bible. Royal 8vo, cloth, 
400 pp. Price, ^1.75. 

Bible Work; or, 

Bible Readers' Commentary on the New Testament. 

The text arranged in Sections ; with Readings and Comments select- 
ed from the Choicest, most Illuminating and Helpful Thought of 
the Christian Centuries. In two volumes. Vol. I. The Fourfold 
Gospel. _ Vol.11. The Acts, Epistles and Revelation. With Maps, 
Illustrations and Diagrams. By J. Glentworth BuTLii.R, D.D. 
Royal 8vo, cloth, 800 pp., per vol., ^5.00; sheep, ^6,00 j half morocco, 
$7.50; full morocco, gilt, $10.00, 

Blood of Jesus. 

By Rev. Wm. Reid, M.A. With an Introduction by Rev. 
E. P. Hammond. Paper, lo cents ; cloth, 40 cents. 

Burial of the Dead. 

A Pastor's Complete Hand-Book for Funeral Services and 
for the Consolation and Comfort of the Afflicted. By Rev. George 
DuFFiELD, D.D., and Rev. Samuel W. Duffield. Entirely prac- 
tical, vi^holly unsectarian, and far in advance of all other Manuals of 
the kind. Cloth, 75 cents; limp leather, ^i.oo. Arranged, for ease 
of reference, in four parts: I. Scriptural Forms of Funeral Service. 
II. An exhaustive Biblical Study on the subject of Death. III. A 
short treatise on the Funeral itself, as it is found in the Bible. IV. 
Texts, Topics and Hints for Funeral Sermons and Addresses. 

Christian Sociology 

By J. H. W. Stuckenberg, D.D., Professor in the Theo- 
logical Department of Wittenberg College. A new book in a fresh 
field. Exceedingly suggestive and practical. i2mo, cloth, 382 pp., 
$1.00. 



SIS' The doove works ivill be sent. J>ost-^aid, on rtceipi of J>ricg, 



195 PUBLICATIONS OP PVKK <£ WAGNALLS, NEW YORK. 



Conversion of Children. 

Can it be Effected? How Young? Will they Remain 

Steadfast? What Means to be Used? When to be Received and 
how Trained in the Church? By Rev, E. P. Hammone, the Chil- 
dren's Evangelist. Should be studied by all lovers and teachers of 
children. Paper, 30 cents; cloth, 75 cents. 

Early Days of Christianity. 

By Canon Farrar, D.D., F.R.S. This standard work 

reeds no comni£ndation. Printed from imported plates w^ithoul 
abridgment. Paper and press-work excellent. Substantially bound 
in brown or green cloth. Authorized Edition. 8vo, cloth, 75 cents; 
paper, 40 cents. 

From Gloom to Gladness. 

Illustrations of Life from the Biography of Esther. By 
Rev. Jt)SEPii S. Van Dyke. A companion book to *' Through the 
Prison to the Throne." Rich in suggestive and practical thoughts, 
i6mo, 254 pp., cloth, ^i.oo. 

Fxilton's Replies. 

Punishment of Sin Eternal. Three Sermons in reply to 
Beecher, Farrar, and Ingersoll. By Justin D. Fulton, D.D. 8vo, 
paper, lo cents. 

Gilead : An Allegory. 

Gilead; or, the Vision of All Souls' Hospital. An Allegory, 
By Rev. J. Hvatt Smith, Congressman from New York. Revised 
^Edition. i2mo, cloth, 350pp., ^i-oo. 

Gospel of Mark. 

From the Teacher's Edition of the Revised New Testament, 
with Harmony of the Gospels, List of Lessons, Maps, etc. Paper, 
15 cents, cloth, 50 cents. 

History of the Cross. 

The Lamb in the Midst of the Throne ; or, the History of 

the Cross. A theological work, treating the condition and tenden- 
cies of modern religious thought as related to the pulpit, and some of 
the grave questions oi the day. The author has sought to bring out 
the universality of the relations of Christ's death as an expiation 
for sin, and as a moral reconciling force. The style is fresh and vig- 
orous. By James M. Sherwood, D.D., editor for many years of 
The Presbyterian Reviezv. 8vo, 525 pp., cloth, ^2.00. 

History of English Bible Translation. 

Revised and Brought down to the Present Time by Thomas 
J. Conant, D.D., Member of the Old Testament Revision Commit- 
tee, and Translator for the American Bible Union Edition of the 
Scriptures, A Complete History of Bible Revision from the Wickliffe 
Bible to the Revised Version. 2 vols., paper, 8vo, 284 pp., 50 cents; 
I vol., Svo, cloth, ^i.oo. 

j^^The abovf will he sent, post paid^ on receipt qfpricet 



PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK & WAQNALLS, NEW YORK. 19(5 



Inner Life of Christ. 

These Sayings of Mine. Sermons on St. Matthew's Gos- 
pel, Chaps. I.- VII. By Joseph Parker, D.D. Wiih Introduciion 
by Dr. Deems. 8vo, cloth, ^1.50. 

Servant of All. Sermons on St. Matthew's Gospel, Chaps. 
VIII-XV. By Joseph Parker, D.D. A sequel to the above vol- 
ume. 8vo, cloth, $1.50. 

Things Concerning Himself. Sermons on St. Matthev/'s 

Gospel, Chaps. XVl-XVIII. A sequel to the above volumes. By 
Joseph Parker, D.D. 8vo, cloth, i^i.so. 

Manual of Revivals. 

Practical Hints and Suggestions from the Histories of Re- 
vivals, and Biographies of Revivalists, with Themes for the use of 
Pastors, before, during, and after special services, including the Texts, 
Subjects, and Outlines of the Sermons of many distinguished Evan- 
gelists. By G. W. Hervey, A.M. i2mo, cloth, ^1.25. 

Metropolitan Pulpit. 

The Metropolitan Pulpit, containing carefully prepared 

Condensations of Leading Sermons, preached in New York and 
Brooklyn, Outlines of Sermons preached elsewhere, and much other 
homiletic matter. Vol.1. Royal 8vo, cloth, 206 pp., $1.50. Vol. 
II., cloth, enlarged. (Metropolitan Pulpit and Homiletic Monthly.) 
388 pp., ^2.75. The set ^4,00, 

Preacher's Cabinet. 

A Handbook of Illustrations. By Rev. Edward P. 
Thwing, author of "Drill-Book in Vocal Culture." Fourth Edition, 
2 vols., i2mo, paper, 50 cents. 

Popery. 

Poper)' the Foe of the Church and of the Republic. By 
Rev. Jos. S. Van Dyke, author of "Through the Prison to the 
Throne," etc. 8vo, cloth, 304 pp., ^i.oo. 

Pulpit and Grave. 

A volume of Funeral Sermons and Addresses, from leading 

Pulpits in America, England, Germany and France; Sketches o^ 
Sermons, Obituary Addresses, Classified Texts, Scripture Pleadings* 
Death-bed Tesiimonies, Point 'on Funeral Etiquette, etc. Edited by 
E, J. Wheeler, A. M. 8vo, 365 pp., cloth, ^1.50. 

Pulpit Talks 

On Topics of the Time, including "Religion and Science,'^ 

•'Religion and Social Or;.'anization," "Religion and Popular Lit« 
eraiupe," ''Religion and Popular Amusements." By Rev. J. Hi 
Rylance, D. D. i2mo, 46 pp., paper, 25 cents. 

t^ The above -wot-ks will be sent,^it'Paid,on receipt o/ price. 



197 



STANDARD LJBRARY FOR 


1884. 


Order 

No. 


Name of Author. 


Name of Book. 


Bate of 
Issue. 


Retail 
Price of 
Book. 


106 


Eilmoiul O'Bonovan. 


The Story of »lerv, 

Kpltoinized by the author 
from the iMerv Oasis. 


Ready. 


$0.25 


107 

1 


" A literary arliM of exlraordi- 
iiarij power." -N. Y. Tkibunk, 
Doc. 31. 18H:{. 


niiimii. 

Diary of n Siipcriliioiis 

Mail. Two Stories trancj- 
luted from the Russian. 


Ready. 


.15 


,«] 


ioiUiiiiii Miller. 


Mcinorie ami Rime. 


Ready. 


.25 


lU'J; 


John P. Newman, 1).I). 


Chriatiauity Triumpli- 
aiit. 


Ready. 


.15 


110 


John Hnbbortoi). 

Author of *' Helen's Babies." 


The BowsUain Puzzle. 

Fiction. 


Ready. 


J25 


111 


11. R. IJaWeis. Author of 
" Music, and Morals," and "Amer- 
ican Humorists." 


My Musical Memories. 


Ready. 


.25 


112 


IiiUaii Hawthorne. 


Archibald MalmaiHon. 

Fiction. 


Ready. 
Ready. 


.15 


113 


Sir Samuel Baker. 


Ill the Henrt of Africa. 

Prepared from Baker's vari- 
ous books of travel. 


.25 


lit 


Charles H. Spnrj^eon. 


Tiie Clew of the Maze. 

From advance sheets. 


Ready. 


.15 


113 


I'M ward Everett Hale. 


The Fortunes of Rachel. 

Fiction. 


Ready. 


.25 


116 


Irchihald Forbes. 


Chinese Gordon. 


Ready. 
Ready. 
Ready. 


.15 


117 


Fean Paul llicliter. 


Wit, Wi.^dom and Plii- 
loMophy. 


.25 


lis 


r i\ (Goldsmith. 


Himself Again. Fiction. 


.25 


ll-» 


L uira C. Hollo way. 


Home in Poetry. 


Ready. 


.25 


120 


Dr. Joseph J. Pope, M.R.C.S. 


Number One: and How 
io Take Care of liim. 

A itopular treatise on I're- 
servlng Health. 


Ready. 


.15 


121 


i!)dgar Fawcett. 


Uiilherford. 

Fiction. 


Ready. 


.25 


m 


Jnd-e Wiglittle. 


Ten Years a Police Court 
Judffc. 


Ready. 


.25 


12:5 


loiiqnin Miller. 


♦49. A Story of the Si- 
erras. 


Ready. 


.15 


124 


Lydia Wood Baldwin. 


A Ynnk«*e School Teach- 
er in Virginia. 


Ready. 


.25 


125 


Capt. Roland Coffin. 


An Old Sailor's Yarns. 

"/ deem them the bef<t nea 
storiea ever ioritten." — Jous 
Haijbbkton. 


Ready. 
Ready. 


.15 


120 


John Laird Wilson. 


Life of Wyclifle. 


.25 


i2r 


Geo. F. Pentecost, U.l). 


Out of Egypt. 


Ready. 


.25 


128 


iieorge Parsons Lathrop. 


True. 

Fiction. 


Ready. 


.25 


12'J 


Julian Hawthorne. 


Pearl Shell Necklace, 
Prince Sardoni's Wite. 


Ready. 


.15 


13C 


Edward Everett Hale. 


Christmns in Narratjan- 
sett. 


Ready. 


.25 


181 


Wni. Cleaver Wilkinson. 


Edwin Arnold «s P«M'ti- 
zer and as Pa«iinizer; 

or, the"Llk'lit of Asia "ex 
amlned for lis Literature 
and Its Buddhism. 


Ready. 


.15 



THS STANDARD SBRISS. 

Best Books for a. Trifle. 

Thbsb books are printed in readable type, on fair paper, and are bound in pustai 
oard manilla. 

These books are printed wholly •without abridgment, except Canon Farrar's " i af« 
•f Chriat" and his " Life of Paul/' 



No. Prke. 

1. John Ploughman's Talk. C. H. 
Spurgeou. On Choice of Books. 
Thomas Carlvle. 4to. Both.... $0 12 

2. Manliuess of Christ. Thomas 
Hughes. 4to 10 

3. Essays. Lord Macauluy. 4to... 15 

4. Liiihtof Asia. Edwin Arnold. 4to. 15 

5. Imitation of Christ. Thomas ik 
Kempis. 4to 15 

fr-7. Life of Christ. Canon Farrar. 

4to 50 

8. Essays. Thomas Carlyle. 4to.. 20 
9-10. Life and Work of St. Paul. ' 

Canon Farrar. 4to 2 parts, both 50 
11. Self-Culture. Prof. J. S. Blackie. 

4to. 2 parts, both 10 

12-19. Popular History of England. 

Chas. Knight. 4to 2 80 

80-21. Ruh'kiu's Letters to Workmen 

and Laborers. 4to. 2 parts, both 30 

22. Idyls of the King. Alfred Tenny- 
son. 4to 20 

23. Life of Rowland Hill. Rev. V. J. 
Charlesworth. 4to 15 

84. Town Geology. Charles Kings- 
ley. 4to 15 

25. Alfred the Great. Thos. Hughes. 

4to 20 

26. Outdoor Life in Europe. Rev. E. 

P. Thwing. 4to 90 

S7. Calamities of Aut^^ors. I. D'ls- 

raeli. 4to 20 

28. Salon of Madame Necker. Part I. 

4to 15 

29. Ethics of the Dust. JohnRuskin, 

4to 15 

30-31. Memories of My Exile. Louis 

Kossuth. 4to 40 

32. Mister Horn and His Friends. 

Ilhifstrated. 4to 15 

3;j-34. Orations of Demosthenes. 4to. 40 

35. Frondes Agrestes. John Rus- 

kin. 4lo 15 

36. Joan of Arc. Alphonee de La- 
niartiiie. 4to 10 

37. Thoughts of M. Aurelius Anto- 
ninus. 4to 15 

38. Salon of Madame Necker. Part 

II. 4to 15 

39. The HcrmltB. Chas. Kingsley. 4to. 15 

40. Jolin Ploughman's Pictures. C. 

H. Spurgfon. 4to 15 

41. Pulpit Table-Talk. Dean Ram- 
pay. 4to 10 

42. Bible and Newspaper. C. H. 
Spurgeon. 4to 15 

43. Lacon. Rev. C. C. Colton. 4to. 20 



No. Price. 

44. Goldsmith's Citizen of the World. 

4to $0 20 

45. America Revisited. George Au- 

EuBtus Sala. 4to ») 
ife of C. H. Spurgeon. 8vo 20 

47. John Calvin. M. Guizot. 4t0... 16 
48-49. Uickens' Christmas Books. 

Illustrated. 8vo 50 

50. Shairp's Culture and Religion. 8vo. 15 
51-62. Godct's Comnienlary on Luke. 
Ed. by Dr. John Hall. 8vo, 2 parts, 

both 2 00 

53. Diary of a Minister's Wife. Part 

I. 8vo 16 

54-57. Van Doren's Suggestive Com- 
mentary on Luke. New edition, 
enlarged. 8vo 3 00 

58. Diary of a Minister's Wife. Part 

II. 8vo » 

59. The Nutritive Cure. Dr. Robert 
Walter. 8vo Ifi 

60. Sartor Resartus. Thomas Car- 
lyle. 4to 25 

61-62. Lothair. Lord Beaconsfield. 

8vo SO 

63. The Persian Queen and Other 
Pictures of Truth. Rev. E. P. 
Thwing. 8vo 10 

64. Salon of Madame Necker. Part 

III. 4to 16 

65-66. The Popular History of Eng- 
lish Bible Translation. H. P. Co- 
nant. 8vo. Price both parts... 50 

67. Ingersoll Answered. Joseph Par- 
ker, D.D. 8vo 15 

68-69. Studies in Mark. D. C. 

Hughes. 8vo, in iwo parts ... 60 

70. Job's Comforters. A Religious 
Satire. Joseph Parker, D.D. (Lon- 
don.) 12mo 10 

71. The Revi-ers' English. G.WiiKh- 
inirton Moo::, f!t? S.L. 12ino.. 20 

72. The Conversion of Children. Rev. 
Kdward Payson Hammond. 12n>o 30 

73. New Testament Helps. Rev. W. 

F. Crafts. 8vo 20 

74. Oi'jium— Kngland's Coercive Poli- 
cy. Rev. Jiio. Lipgins. 8vo 10 

75. Blood of Jesus. Rev. Wnu A. 
Reid. With Introduction by E. 

P. Hammond. 12mo 10 

76. Lesson in the Closet for 1883. 
Ch.Mrles F. Deems. D D. 12nio.. 90 

77-78. Heroes and Holidavs. Rev. 

W. F. r-rafts. 12mo. 2 pts.. both 30 
79. Reminisc'-nces of Rev. Lyman 

Keecher, D. D. 8vo 10 



FUNK & WAGNALLS, 10 and 12 Dey St., NEW YORK. 



BRAIN AN D NE RVE FOOD. 

VITALIZED TiiOS-PHITES 

COMPOSED OF THE 

Nerve-Giving rrinciples of the Ox-Brain and Wheat-Gemi. 

No„J!lI'.if ""'''. "? '".?^^ ^"""^ ^^ Nervousness or Indigestion; relieves Lassitude ant 
Neuralgm; refreHhes the nerves tired by worry, excitement, or excessive bmin fatigue 
strengtliens a fa.lfng memory, and give, renewed vigor in all diseases of Nervous Exhaua- 
tion or Debility. It is the only PREVENTIVE OF CONSUMPTION 

It aids in the mental and bodily growth of children. Under its use the 
teeth come easier, the skin grows plumper and smoother ; the brain acquire, 
more readily and sleeps more sweetly. An iU-fed brain learns no lessonU, 
•nd is peevish. It gives a happier childhood. |l 

Physicians have nsed a Million Packages. It is not a .ecret remedy ; 
me formula is on every label. 

By Druggists or by Mail, $1, 

omd /or circular, f. CROSBY GO,. 56 West 25th St., N. Y 



SOHMER 



Ttie «nvlable position 
SOHMER & CO. hold 
among Ameriean Piano 
manufacfurers is solely 
due to the merits of 
their instruments. 




They are used In Cei^ 
servatories, Schools, 
and Seminaries on ao* 
count of their superior 
tone and unequalled d«* 
rability. 



z>xuhis«si:eijeijeix3 bit iuiEiA:Tymr€3r AJE^i'xm'X'm^ 



SOHMER & CO. 



WAREROOMS: 
149, 151, 153, and 155 East Fourteenth 8t, N. V. 



^ 



OCT 



-0 



^)\ 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: March 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township. PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



